Foundations
by CrimsonCobwebs
Summary: The foundations are set, now all that's left to do is build on them. 'Happily Ever After' is never easy.
1. Prologue

A/N: _There_, said I'd do it, didn't I? Here is the 'sequel' to Brick By Brick (though for newcomers, reading the first isn't essential). It will hold a similar format to the first, consisting of short stories – though it will have more of a running plot – the chapters will be longer (something I've been determined to do for a while) and they'll be primarily in Garnet's perspective. The rating will probably go up when the lemon comes out, but until then you know the drill: swearing, lime and fluff ahoy. More info on my profile. Enjoy and review, okaaay? Else I wont continue :smiles:

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Prologue

'Lying, robed in snowy white  
That loosely flew to left and right --  
The leaves upon her falling light --  
Thro' the noises of the night,  
She floated down to Camelot:  
And as the boat-head wound along  
The willowy hills and fields among,  
They heard her singing her last song,  
The Lady of Shalott.'

_(- The Lady of Shalott, Alfred Tennyson)_

i.

"You know, I heard the weirdest thing the other day…"

His voice was hushed and bracing; a man ready to divulge a conspiracy not meant to be overheard; yet the whisper was oddly comical. Despite this, his compatriots leaned closer, their flagons almost knocking together. Any gossip was good gossip, afterall.

Thief, actor and passionate handyman Cinna, raked a theatrical gaze across the surrounding empty tables before continuing in a tense whisper: "Have you heard about… the Silver Siren?"

"Silver Siren?" Blank echoed with a note of disdain, already leaning away and sipping his beer. "Sounds like some lame-ass superhero to me."

But the rotund thief was persistent, his bright eyes aglow with atypical flickers of honesty. "Swear it! Swear it on… on… Boss' life!"

"Meaningless," Marcus and Blank snorted in unison, then looked fearfully about for the man in question. Cinna didn't seem bothered though, as he hurriedly pleaded the authenticity of his case. "No, no honest! I heard it from Weimer, y'know? One of the guards at the castle? He says he's seen it with his own two eyes. Says he nearly shit his pants right off and couldn't sleep alone for a week!"

"Gaayyy," Blank drawled, completely losing interest to the much more interesting spectacle of Ruby bending over to clean some lower shelves.

"Yeah okay but… but that's not important, right? He's not the only one that's seen her… there's been like, fifteen other sightings –"

"Wait, 'her'? This Siren is a chick?"

Cinna nodded sombrely, as if departing some great wisdom. "Aye. White as snow, she is, hair down to her waist the colour of moonlight. Transparent as a sheet of ice. You can see straight through her, I swear! She walks by the canals all hours of the night; some've even seen her drifting across the water. Others say she brings with her the morning mists."

"You're full of it," Blank muttered (eyes still glued on Ruby) but Marcus was either less sceptical or not as taken by the scenery, for he lazily pursued the subject.

"Oh yeah? So what's the deal with the canals?"

"Drowned," Cinna informed bluntly. "Weimer says he saw her climb from the water, her skin slimy like seaweed and eyes filmed over like a dead fish's."

"Gross."

"Yah, I know."

"So… why do they call her the Silver Siren? Well, I got the 'silver' part."

Cinna leaned closer, the cabal note in his voice deepening. "It's said that in the dead of night she'll appear before you, shrouded in the mists that roll off the canal like clouds across a summer's sky. She begins to sing; the voice is captivating, melodious. You can't help yourself; her beauty captivates you, and as soon as she smiles you're under her spell. She lures you toward the water with her sweet song, and there you'll meet a watery end, her arms locked around your torso in a final, deathly embrace…"

The boys dropped into reflective silence.

"That's deep," Marcus granted.

"That's bull," Blank scoffed.

Ruby stood up. She tossed the cloth she'd been using aside, turned, then leaned heavily against the bar and cast Cinna a shrewd stare.

"Whut's all this ya spurtin', darlin'? Yer spittin' more crap than a tobacco chewin' cowboy."

Two of three brothers sniggered into their flagons while the third gawped indignantly.

"Ruby! Would I lie to you?"

She quirked a challenging eyebrow and Cinna failed to meet her silent accusation.

"Well, okay, maybe there's been a _few_ harmless white lies… but I'm a thief! What did you expect? Anyways, this is all true, I swear."

"Have you seen her?" Ruby accosted with obvious scepticism.

"Ah… no. But Weimer –"

"Well, then." Ruby snatched their half full flagons from beneath their noses and expertly tossed them in the sink. "Closing time, boys."

"Ah!"

"I wasn't finished!"

"Whhaaat!?"

"We can't have a lock in!?"

"You can't just –"

She cut off their braying with a finger pointed sternly toward the door. The boys thought of pleading a little harder, but none were keen to tempt her wild temper (especially Blank) so they plodded toward the exit with heads cast down like scolded school children. However, Ruby couldn't help but add a cheerful, "G'night, fellas! Don't let the Silver Siren get ya while ya sleepin'!" just before they slipped into the darkness outside.

None of the Tantalus boys slept particularly well that night.

ii.

Alexandria Castle was bathed in the gentle hues of dawn. Pearly pinks scrubbed the turrets clean and the new sun trimmed downy clouds with gold. Servants scurried here and there with various luggages in tow and the guards switched shifts and the chef's prepared breakfasts. It was a swift, orderly hive of activity.

No one paid much heed to the woman knocking repeatedly on a door.

And glad the woman was for that inattention, too.

Lingering outside a particularly opulent room whose premises were currently barred, General Beatrix glanced sideways at the servant extinguishing the nightly torches. He bowed slightly as he strode past, and when she was sure he would not peep over her shoulder, she went against her better senses and slipped inside uninvited.

A quick inspection of what lay within confirmed her suspicion. She had knocked numerous times and called softly, but upon receiving no reply Beatrix had taken it upon herself to infiltrate the room and of course, she found Her Majesty sleeping soundly.

Beatrix couldn't help but smile at the sight. She remembered fondly the vivacious little girl who had run amuck around the castle grounds, and though she had grown into an incomparable young woman, it was times like this that brought to mind the child most vividly.

Garnet Til Alexandros XVII was starfished beneath her covers, lips daintily parted and brow free of concern. Her shoulder-length hair was a wild nest around a face so pale it almost merged with the white cotton of her sheets. She looked delicate and girly, yet Beatrix knew the sorrow that smouldered beneath the façade; it burnt her eyes to charcoal and lent an erratic edge to her usually kempt character, and for that reason the general had let the queen sleep late.

But sleep-ins could not last forever. Gingerly, the general approached her. The mattress dipped as she perched on the edge of the bed, and she felt more like a big sister than a general as she leaned across and shook what she thought to be the queen's cover-swathed shoulder. However, when the assumed shoulder wriggled in a sickening manner, detached itself from Garnet's torso and snaked toward the middle of the bed Beatrix cried out in alarm and disgust (and Beatrix _never_ cried out), and unsheathed Save The Queen with a flourish.

"Your Majesty! Wake up! A fiend dwells within your bed!"

The queen did indeed awake with gasping, disorientated swiftness, her hair a tangled halo and eyes unfocussed as a drunks'.

"Nyah…ah… wha…?"

But Beatrix had no time to wait for the queen to gather her wits. With one sure flick of the wrist she tossed the covers aside (instigating a startled shriek from the muddled and suddenly exposed queen) to reveal the trespasser, the monster, the murderer, the –

The moogle?

"Hey! Who turned on the lights, kupo!?"

Beatrix, sword still cocked at a threatening angle and adrenalin beginning to pump about her veins, could do nothing but blink in utter bemusement at the pink, fuzzy creature, who was returning her bewilderment with its own.

Garnet, on the other hand, seemed entirely unperturbed. She stretched and yawned, the nightdress silvery-thin against her willow limbs, and rubbed the bleariness from her eyes. She glanced down at the moogle, who was wrapping himself in the covers in such a way that, with nothing but his pom pom sticking out the top, he looked like dollop of whipped cream capped with a cherry.

"Y-your Majesty? Have I completely lost my wits or… is there a moogle in your bed?"

Garnet waved a hand, the other stifling another yawn. "Yes, yes. Goodness, Beatrix, what's the time? I'm so tired still! Must you wake me so early?"

"It's actually past ten, you were due for breakfast an – wait, wait, that's not the point, the point is what in Ramuh's name is a –"

"Ten!" Garnet chimed in alarm, her eyes suddenly alight with clarity. "But that's so late! I have so much to do today! Quickly, send for my maids, I must dress at once!"

"Yes, Your Majesty. But… the moogle?" Beatrix gestured to the bobbing cherry atop the icing.

Garnet shook her head, bouncing onto the carpet and dashing to the en suite bathroom, looking every part the typical teenager. Her rambling drifted through the open door. "Never mind that! I have an appointment at ten forty; I can't be seen half asleep! Have the chef rustle up some fruit, would you? And maybe some toast. With jam. But not with that sickly one, the nice stuff, you know? I think it was raspberry… or maybe cherry. Oh, it doesn't matter, either will do. Please, Beatrix, you must make haste! I'm terribly late as it is!"

"Ah… Uh, yes. Yes, of course." Defeated (for now), the general saluted and exited the room with a baffled sigh, almost accustomed to Garnet's bizarre changes of character.

Almost.

iii.

Alone yet still frantic, Garnet didn't wait for her maids and pulled a brush through her hair herself. The tangles were easily overwhelmed and she coiffed it with a pearl clasp for the sake aesthetics.

"So eaarrrlllyy…" a voice whined from the main bedroom. "Why is everything so earrrllly…?"

Busy scraping her teeth now, Garnet poked her head round the door and contemplated the white mound dominating her abode. Around the brush she primly scolded, "Really, Mene, how many times have I told you? You can't sleep in my bed!"

The mound grew a pink face and shrewd, beady eyes. He regarded her with mild irritation.

"And I've told _you_ before, kupo. This is the most comfy bed in the castle so I'm sleeping _here_."

"And what if I order you to leave? I am queen, you know."

"You're not _my_ queen."

"If you live in my kingdom then I am your queen, so you have to do as I say."

Mene poked his little tongue out and retreated back into his cushioned cave. His voice was muffled as he continued, "Yeah, well, it seems a waste to have such a big bed all to yourself, kupo."

Garnet momentarily ceased her frantic scraping, stung by his words. Her eyes glazed as she stared at the pom pom dancing on the tip of the covers. She gathered herself quickly though, willing the dark thoughts away, and amended, "Yes, I suppose it is. And I suppose you do keep me warm. You're like a cuddly toy. Ooh, now there's an idea. Maybe I should have you stuffed?"

The face was unspeakably indignant this time as it reappeared above the white. "You're mean, you are! Not nice at all! I should go back to Chocobo's Forest! Hmph. Kupo."

Garnet hurriedly contemplated herself in the mirror, decided she had done all she could without the assistance of her maids (even if she dressed herself they would probably insist she re-dress in different colours and design anyway), so she returned to her bed and burrowed beneath the covers in search of her furry friend. She found him scowling and pouty, as usual.

"Sorry, Mene. Forgive me?"

"No."

"Now who's being mean?" She wriggled in the warm knot of covers and smiled contently. "Mmm, I wish I could go back to sleep. This is cosy. And you smell like… grass and feathers and… kupo nuts."

Mene bared his small but sharp incisors. "You smell like yucky humans, kupo." Garnet feigned hurt, so Mene grumpily added, "And flowers. Happy now?

"Very! Oh, can I buy some Gyshal Greens from you? I almost forgot."

"I guess so, kupo. They'll be sixty gil each."

Garnet frowned, though the smile was evident in her eyes. "Sixty? Huh. I could've sworn they were fifty last time."

"I add ten gil every time you make me mad."

"Goodness, it'll be twenty thousand gil in no time, then!"

"Not if you start being nice, kupo."

"You're sharing a bed with a queen! What more can you ask for?"

"An infinite supply of kupo nuts."

Garnet shook her head. "No deal." She roused herself from the comfy tangle of blankets and stretched again. She strode to the door, intent on searching for her maids, and called lazily over one shoulder, "Just leave them in my bag okay? Thanks, Mene, you're the best!"

iv.

Hours later, the maids' expressions twisted into masks of horror as their beloved queen kicked off her dainty slippers and waded into stinking faeces and sticky hay with an air of utter nonchalance. Furthermore, they were forced to witness their mistress' efforts to scrunch her dress above her knees even as the white silk became stained with grisly smears, and watch as her feet became an equal shade of unholy hue.

"Y-your Majesty…" one of them tried, a girl of no more than fourteen, unused, as all of them were, to the 'Dagger' side of their queen.

Their mistress waved a hand dismissively, almost irritably, so much so that the girl thought she might be swatting one of the beastly flies away. But that misunderstanding was quickly amended as the queen reassured, "Never mind your concerns. I'm just checking on him. Now where – ah, here we are. Now be so kind as to leave me."

The maids exchanged exasperated glances, wringing their hands and shuffling their feet beneath their heavy skirts. The queen turned upon hearing their hesitation, her face stern and beautiful.

"Nell, Briar. Please. I will return to my chambers at leisure. It's late anyway, you should retire too."

"Yes but… it's not proper for us to leave you like… like…" Briar, the youngest at twelve, gestured to their queen's stained garment and feet.

But apparently this was not a concern for their mistress, either, as she proudly declared, "Oh please. I've walked through much worse. There was this one time when I was forced to trek through a swamp and …" Her eyes clouded, as if spell-stricken, and she shook her head to bid the thunderclouds depart. "But that is past. If it bothers you then you may wait for me at my chamber, though I strongly suggest you get some sleep."

Deciding to leave before inducing the (incredibly rare) wrath of their queen, Briar and Nell offered one last despairing look before curtseying and scuttling out of the rancid stables.

Alone now, Garnet returned her attention to something that had been giving _her_ quite a bit of attention. She turned around and tapped the beak gnawing thoughtfully on a lock of her hair.

"Choco! Kindly desist eating my hair. Apparently I need to grow it long again because a queen sporting short hair is unbecoming, so I really can't have you munching it off or else I'll have to endure another lecture from Beatrix, and what will I say? 'I'm sorry, but Choco was feeling peckish and apparently my hair is quite delectable'. I don't think she'd buy it."

The chocobo, who had ceased its chomping to give the rambling human a politely confused stare, got straight to the point and nuzzled at the bag strung over Garnet's shoulder.

"Oh, yes yes, alright. Sometimes I think it isn't me you're happy to see but the treats I bring on my visits. Here, now you can stop eating my hair." Garnet pulled from her little bag a handful of stinking green foliage, Gyshal Greens, and Choco snatched them greedily from her flat palm.

Garnet grinned and gave her surroundings a quick inspection. There were other chocobo in this vast stable, reared for warfare (so bigger than the average chocobo, and twice as restrained as Choco would ever be) and they were dozing or roused from such slumber by the intoxicating aroma of their favourite snack. The best herdsman in Alexandria tended the birds with more love than they would their own children. The queen strictly disallowed whips of any sort, and only permitted harnesses in particular circumstances. The stables were roomy and while wooden panels and bars separated some chocobo from others (not all chocobo were friendly to their kin) the others nested in sociable flocks amidst bundles of straw and hay.

Choco's stable was unique, however. Unlike the others, the door was always left open. Choco had free reign of the grounds and could come and go as he pleased. If ever she caught the door to his stable closed (whether Choco was home or not) she let her displeasure be known, and after it happened once, it never happened again. She made it clear that Choco was not hers to own, nor any stable masters', and his freedom was never to be restricted. She'd thought some time in the stables might reduce him to a dull-eyed noble-bred beast, but he was still as enigmatic and boisterous as ever, often disappearing for months on end and reaping havoc here, there and everywhere.

So it had almost become legend in the space of a few months, of the chocobo with godly colours roaming like some mythical beast around the gardens of Alexandria Castle. She'd heard the rumours, outrageous as they were. Some said it was a fearful beast, sent by the gods to protect the queen from strife. Others said it was an ancient eidolon summoned to guard her grounds from evildoers. Some said it was a gentler reincarnation of Alexander, forever bound to the castle he perished protecting.

But the truth was far greater. Choco was a friend. More importantly, a friend of friend, and she determined to keep the bird safe from harm. Plus, she loved Choco. She wanted him to be happy, and apparently getting treats of Gyshal Greens everyday (not to mention the various vegetables and exotic plants growing in the gardens – much to the gardener's displeasure) and sleeping on fresh, soft hay was enough to keep the vivacious bird content, for he had stayed almost every day since Garnet had invited him do so.

She almost hadn't recognised him at first. Last she'd seen him the bird had been like Ifrit's mane: all fiery red and dusky copper. Now he was golder than morning sunlight; his beak looked like it had been dipped in liquid ingot. But Choco had recognised her instantly, and there was no mistaking those intelligent, reproachful eyes anyway.

"K-kweh!!?"

Garnet was brusquely snapped from her thoughts. Without warning, Choco had danced backward. He drew himself straight and cocked his head to one side. Alarmed, Garnet had also reared back, then after a few moments had passed, she raised a hand to the golden beak.

"Hey, hey, what's the matter…?"

Choco's eyes were fixed on some place distant, staring and thoughtful. Garnet turned, thinking he had heard someone walk into the stables, but they were alone aside from the other chocobo, who were entirely unconcerned. She turned a bemused gaze back to Choco, who was now blinking rapidly.

"Choco…?"

And then the bird lurched past her. Before the queen could even shout the bird had vanished through the open door. Not a moment wasted, she picked up her skirts and dashed after him, almost stumbling in the tangles of straw, and entered the night outside. Here, she witnessed the chocobo dash into a thicket, then raise up like a celestial being, flapping its great wings in a manner that was almost clumsy. Garnet watched as Choco flew up and up, and then the night swallowed him whole.

"Huh," was all she could say of the matter, feeling a bit miffed. "Well, I'll see you later, then."

Trying not to think too hard on an occurrence she couldn't alter, Garnet made her way back to the castle. The night air was chill against her pale skin, so she drew up the hood of her alabaster cloak and wrapped it tight around her dress. Only once she reached the edge of the canals did she realise she was barefoot. Nevermind. Her shoes could sleep beneath the hay for tonight.

She drifted alongside the still water, watching the moonlight play across its dappled surface. She had seen this dance a hundred times, for she found solace in walking these paths. The silence of the castle wreathed in inky blankets stilled her aching thoughts; she could walk for hours on the curb of her singing canals. And often she did, the nights no longer granted her sleep.

There was a kind of veil across her mind, she realised. A veil that segregated her true thoughts from how she knew she must be portrayed in court. It was, in actual fact, a way to separate Dagger from Garnet. The two confused her; she so rarely knew who she was within the castle. Dagger, who rode a golden chocobo in breeches and a cotton shirt. Garnet, who sat on the throne and extended her authority.

But the veil wasn't just there for that. If the veil was not a metaphor, and existed as something one could physically touch, one would find it spongy and absorbent. All the pain and heartache and sorrow that was never far from her fingertips was soaked up by that veil, so she knew she must always wear it to aid her role as Queen Garnet.

Yet the veil's absorbency was not infinite. At night the pent up emotion spilled out drop-by-drop, snatching sleep from grasp, leaving her with the choice to toss and turn in her covers or walk the canals outside. She chose the latter, in hopes that the scenery would draw her away from darker things.

It worked to a point. But the heartache was pounding, tangible; she could drown in it as surely she could drown in the moon-licked waters beside her. She had drowned before after all, the grief stealing her voice, but now she'd lost her heart, something so much more precious and painful.

"He's gone, kupo!"

Garnet nearly toppled into the canal as the trill voice squeaked an alarm in her ear. The queen turned and stared wide eyed at Mene, flapping frantically further along the winding path. Alexandria Castle was a dark silhouette against a bloody moon, beautiful and sinister at once.

"Who?" she instinctively questioned, then realised her mistake. "Oh, yes. He did go. Choco, I mean. But – "

"He never leaves without me, kupo!" Mene cried, clearly distressed. "Never, never! You did this! You drove him away from me! My best buddy! My pal! He _needs_ me, kupo! Don't you understand!? Don't you realise? You drove him away!!"

"I've done nothing of the sort!" Garnet countered hotly. "He just… I don't know… he just went a bit strange… like he was listening… then he just ran off. Flew away."

Mene went quiet, then landed on the ground. "Oh," he said. "Never mind then."

"Never mind?" Garnet repeated. "You were frantic a heartbeat ago! Now you don't care where he's gone?"

"I _know_ where he's gone, kupo," Mene informed tartly. "Where he always goes, I guess."

"What do you mean?"

"…Nothing."

"Mene!"

"I'm tired. I'm going to your bed, kupo."

Garnet shrugged inwardly, suddenly tired and defeated, too muddled to scold the moogle for assuming his place in her bedroom. Yet just before she followed the fuzzy creature back to the palace, she paused and stared up at the sky with a frown, something irking her. A nostalgic sensation. A whiff of Gyshal Greens. A trill whistle and scratch marks on the ground.

_Where he always goes. _

Something flickered in the tangible pain of her soul, but she quickly extinguished it, knowing that all was lost and she would be a fool to think otherwise. If she was to live, she must accept and move on. There was no alternative.

_Where he always goes._

Garnet walked to the castle alone, and could not apprehend the auspicious flutter of her heart.


	2. Waking Dream

Thank you to everyone that reviewed! It's good to know the BBB readers have come back for more, hehe. I'm sorry if I didn't reply to you, every review is appreciated and I promise I'll reply in the future! Btw, most people understood but a few didn't, so just to clarify: the 'silver siren' isn't a villain, it was just a rumour that got ridiculously distorted after a few guards got a glimpse of Garnet walking by the canals. Chinese whispers, so to speak; you know how twisted rumours get! If you're still confused drop me a PM.

Something to note: I've added rooms and halls and gardens to the castle, and given them names. It is a castle after all, and access around it was very limited in the game, so I like to think it's much bigger than what was originally portrayed. I hope you like chap one; I wanted to do something a bit different to all the 'day/night after Zidane returns' fics I've read, which all seem to be quite similar and perfectly romantic, if you know what I mean. Hopefully this will satisfy. Please review on your way out! It only takes a minute and it makes me very happy!

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**Chapter One  
**. the waking dream .

'And, oh, how blessed is it thus to meet!  
To feel that vanished years have not estranged us,  
Distance has not diminished love,  
That we are to each other even as we parted;  
To feel again the fond kiss,  
To hear once more the accents of a voice which to us has been for years so still,  
A voice that brings with it the gush of memory!'  
- _Grace Aguilar__, The Mother's Recompense, Volume II, 1859_

i.

"Apologies, apologies," a servant chimed as she passed, bowing so low and so quick that she failed to identify him. "We do not work quickly enough, Your Majesty."

She'd heard the like half a dozen times since she'd left her chamber, and tired of explaining how she'd seen it all the previous night and the mess hadn't changed since then, so she really didn't care. Instead, she offered a weak smile and waved her hand, and the servant backed off like a tamed beast.

_The mess isn't so bad anyway_, she thought, _considering the riot that ensued…_

Her foot kicked an empty wine bottle as she passed, almost sending her flying. The nearby servants gasped at this atrocity, but she laughed lightly to quell their fear (and to quiet the avalanche of apologies), picked it up and set it on a table, whose surface was largely obscured by dirty glasses, dishes, remnants of food and drink stains. The lily-white decorations – which were actually individually crafted paper flowers strung together on silver twine – lay crumpled on the floor. She picked one of the surviving flowers off a heap and twirled it between thumb and forefinger as she left behind the phalanx of bowing servants.

As she entered the Entrance Hall, whose opulent expanse was still dominated by the portrait of her mother, Garnet spotted a Pluto Knight slumped against a column. He was apparently asleep and clad in nothing but his helm and underpants. Her maids, Briar and Nell, giggled into their hands, and the guards that followed exchanged a glance, one even clearing his throat in hope to awaken his oblivious comrade.

Garnet crept up to the fellow and peered beneath the lip of his visor. True enough, he was sound asleep. Feeling mischievous, she reached out a hand and hammered tunelessly on his steel helmet. The thunderous racket startled the knight awake with an unmanly shriek, and he fell gracelessly on his behind.

"Wha… who… uh… Cap'n?"

Garnet loomed over the man, hands on hips, grinning helplessly. "The gods look kindly upon you today, Sir Knight, for I am most certainly _not_ your captain."

Upon seeing who it _actually_ was, however, the man clambered to his feet, eyes wide and face red as a tomato. "Y-Your Majesty! I was… I was ah… standing guard and… I…"

"Go and get some rest," Garnet politely suggested. She looked him up and down. "Or at least put some clothes on."

The knight looked down and was suddenly enlightened to his indecent state. He yelped and covered himself and turned redder (if that were possible), while Garnet smirked, absently tucked the paper flower she'd been clutching in her hair, then busied away in a whirl of silk and satin. The maids averted their gazes with pink cheeks and girlish giggles and the guards offered pitying glances to their shunned brother-in-arms.

"Only the best," Garnet muttered to herself with a smile. "Only the best, Steiner said, are picked to be Pluto Knights. I should really talk to him about his standards."

Garnet hopped down the stairs two at a time then out the main entrance. Here, the courtyard was belittled by Tantalus' newly repaired theatre ship: the Prima Vista. Yet even this gigantic beast could not touch the galleries flanking its left and right, where the nobility had gathered on its tiered balconies to watch the play just last night. Beneath these structures lapped a very small lake (the drawbridge used to reach the town currently raised), purposely built for accommodating airships, where currently the Prima Vista was docked. The now unoccupied seats still half mooned around a stage that was no longer visible; lowered from sight back into the ship, so that only the balcony from which the band had played was perceptible. It seemed oddly quiet, but she approached the starboard anyway, where a narrow gangway crossed the water and led up to a door.

"Should we announce your presence, Your Majesty?" Nell inquired timidly, reading Garnet's thoughts to board.

The queen waved a hand. "No, no, they wont mind."

"That's not what I meant…"

"Please wait here a moment," she instructed, "I'll be right back."

Briar and Nell exchanged anxious looks, but decided against disobeying their mistress. Her guards remained unconvinced, however.

"Your Majesty, it is our duty to protect you from harm," one declared. "It would go against my honour to allow you to board that ship unescorted, especially considering its… particular inhabitants."

Garnet threw him a flinty stare. "There is nothing wrong with that company, and you'd do well to mind how you speak of such folk in the future, considering one will, perhaps, be dwelling closer to home than you think." But she shrugged off her annoyance. "I understand your concern and your devotion is noted, but please remain here. I wont tell the General or Captain."

So she left her maids to be grudgingly patient and the guards nervously scanning the horizon, and bounded up the gangplank and through the door.

Despite the fact that the troupe had spent most of the night hours within the halls of the castle, the ship stank of wine and other aromas that accompany a heavy night of drinking. Though, she did wonder if it smelt like this all the time.

Aimlessly, Garnet wandered from room to room. Her heavy, dragging skirts picked up all manners of debris on her way: mothballs, a sock, broken glass, a curious ragdoll with dark hair. And the rooms contained objects of equal curiosity. Some sported nothing but a table or couch, others were full of gears and steam and pumps, others had racks upon racks of costumes, one had weapons and masks. It seemed as if Tantalus had more rooms than what they knew to do with, so she could hardly believe her eyes when she found half the brothers asleep in one, tiny room at the base of a spiral staircase.

She'd glanced inside by chance (the door had been ajar) but now she lingered on the threshold with a slight grin on her face. There was Cinna asleep on a table, hammer in a protective grip even as he snored with his mouth wide open. Marcus was on the top bunk, one of the triplets on the floor and Blank scrunched inside an open chest.

She approached the lattermost intent on waking him, but he did so before she could try and startled upright almost immediately. He blinked up at her, rubbed his eyes, blinked some more, then scowled.

"What the hell're you doin' watchin' me sleep?"

Garnet raised an amused eyebrow. "How could I resist? You're just so handsome, what with that line of drool and the Zaghnol-like snoring."

Blank got up and wiped his mouth, the scowl still prominent. "Hmph. Don't you have something better to do? Or someone better to be doing something with?"

Garnet's cheeks pinked most infuriatingly. "You asked me to come, remember?"

Blank massaged his temple. "I don't remember much about last night, to be honest…"

The queen grinned. "No, I doubt you would. Anyway, do you at least remember what is was you wanted me for?"

Blank blinked up at the planked ceiling, then clicked his fingers. "Shit, yeah. C'mon, follow me."

He staggered to the door, grumbling about headaches and sickness and hangovers and 'goddamn wine'. He led her through several rooms until they reached a cluster of treasure chests. He threw one open, tsked, then threw another open and brought out two vials of liquid and a package wrapped in paper and string. He held them out to Garnet.

"What's this?" she asked, taking one of the vials and swirling its contents. It left an amethyst residue on the glass sides.

"To be exact? Extract of Cornflower and White Cedar root mixed with diluted potion."

"Medicine," Garnet acknowledged. She gestured to the others. "All of it?"

Blank tossed her the package then handed her the other vial with an offhanded, "Yep. For that impulsive twat I call friend on the sparse occasion he deserves it."

"Zidane?"

Blank pointed to the amethyst coloured potion. "That one, two times a day. The other one, once a day at dawn. The powder in the package can be dissolved in a drink twice a day – water, alcohol, piss, anything – and the leaves can be boiled or eaten raw. He needs to have that once a day."

Garnet frowned. "Can you write it down for me? What's it for anyway? I mean, is _all_ of it for Zidane?"

The redhead nodded sagely.

"Why?" she said, feeling the alarm grow within her chest. "Is he sick?"

"Naw." Blank retrieved some yellowed, dirty parchment from another chest and then a stick of charcoal. "Well, he was. Back when that weird chick dragged him outta the Iifa Tree."

"Who?"

"Ah… um… Masako? Minato?"

"Mikoto?"

Blank clicked his fingers at her. "That's the one. Yeah, he was all broken bones and had lost more blood than a slaughtered cow. Not mention what being exposed to the toxins in Iifa's vines did to 'im."

Garnet's heart was sinking by the minute. "But he is okay, right?"

Blank shrugged. "You saw it yourself, didn't you? Dying man wouldn't act as badly as he did, last night."

"He didn't act badly at all," Garnet defended primly. "You all did brilliantly, Blank… Gods, I haven't thanked any of you properly! Last night… everything was so… so…"

Blank stopped scribbling the prescription to raise a hand. "Not a word. It's the least we could do after you funded the repairs of the Prima Vista. And Zidane's our brother; we weren't gonna let him die."

Garnet nodded humbly. "But can I see Baku? I'd like to thank him when he's uh… sober."

The thief's eyes widened a tad. "No way, man. Baku's gonna be hella hung over and I aint wakin' him fer shit. He'll beat me 'til my brains are shooting outta my nose like boogers."

Garnet giggled, then took the finished list from him and tucked it (in a most un-lady like manner, Blank thought, and little did he know it was something she'd picked up from Ruby) into her corset. "I'll see you around then. You can come down later if you want."

Blank shrugged. "Might do. Need to go back to Lindblum, though. Depends what boss wants."

"Always does," she acquiesced, then left him to be hung over, cradling her medicine awkwardly as the gentle rocking of the ship threatened to knock her sideways.

Over the two years that Zidane had been away, and the hole in her heart was so big it was as if Atmos himself dwelled within her chest, she had formed an unlikely friendship with Zidane's best friend. It was just a friendship, nothing more, but she had been grateful for it nonetheless. The nobility were too aloof and plotting for her taste, and none understood the loss of _him_ better than a Tantalus brother. Blank was often in Alexandria running various errands for Baku (or so he claimed), but Garnet knew his true intentions: he was there to woo Ruby. He often brought her along with him and they'd all have lunch or play cards or some such thing. It was an endless source of entertainment to watch those two bicker. Ruby would snap at Blank and Blank would curse, fall into frosty silence, then promptly go fawn-eyed the moment he thought she wasn't looking.

Still, it had pricked her heart with splinters to watch them gaily court, but as she stepped back onto her courtyard and rejoined her small precession, she realised she wouldn't have to worry about that anymore.

ii.

Quietly, the queen dumped the medicine into a cabinet beneath her en suite's sink and stashed the prescription in a dry drawer. After a moment of fruitless worrying, she crept from the bathroom with equal care, returned to her chamber and hovered over the bed uneasily.

It wasn't how she'd imagined. And she had imagined it aplenty. She had always stared from her window in search of him. She fancied he would ride up on Choco clad in full armour (which was utterly ridiculous but it was the image that came to her nonetheless) and call up to her from the courtyard. Or that one day he would burst into her chamber and sweep her away in his arms, or they would meet in a field of wild flowers outside Lindblum.

Yet the play was just as romantic and theatrical and more, and she wouldn't have guessed it in a thousand years. The polite letter from Baku offering to finish the play they had started years ago to celebrate her eighteenth birthday (and she had been so angry with him for stirring the embers of her heartbreak!), the persistent coaxing from Beatrix until she agreed, it all seemed so obvious now.

But, of all things, she had never _never_ imagined their first day reunited to begin like this.

It was some time past eleven now, yet Zidane Tribal, Vanquisher of the Evil Wizard Kuja, Saviour of Gaia, Angel of Death, was sprawled on his back with limbs akimbo, mouth wide open and snoring quietly. He was still fully clothed in his theatre gear, boots and all, with an empty bottle of wine in one hand and a half-eaten sandwich in the other ('midnight schnack' she remembered him slurring, despite it being four bells past midnight).

She had slept on her antique sofa. Garnet hadn't gotten as uproariously drunk as most people (she wasn't sure whether they were celebrating the play, her birthday or Zidane's return, then decided people only need one excuse to let the wine flow) so she had woken feeling better than most. At any rate, any thoughts of a romantic first evening cradled in his arms as they exchanged words as emotional as they were overdue were cruelly slaughtered when Zidane passed out on her bed drunk as a kitten in a wine barrel.

But she wasn't even slightly angry.

In fact, she didn't feel very much at all.

Last night… it was so surreal she might as well have been drunk. Faces she hadn't seen in years danced around her with mad grins and tears in their eyes. 'How are you feeling, how are you feeling?' She had nodded dumbly and reflected their lunatic grins and tears, but in truth, she didn't know.

He was at her side, most of the time. She wondered on numerous occasions if she had finally gone mad, and he – and the play _and_ her friends! – were merely illusions created by her shattered mind. When he spoke to her, she would be unable to answer for a prolonged stretch of time as her brain spent most of its effort simply processing his presence.

He was there.

_He is here. _

It was overwhelming. He couldn't just… reappear, just like that, could he? Her heartache an incurable crutch one day, gone the next? Someone she had presumed dead risen from the grave and returned to her side by some merciful god?

As she looked down upon his face, only slightly aged in the two years she'd missed him – with jaw line slightly more pronounced and a slenderness about his eyes – asleep so childishly as if he'd never left, it was unbelievable. She'd spent every second since the night previous floundering in a pool of doubt and denial.

How cruel the world was! She knew its tricks! She would wake any second – as she had done so many times – and he would vanish in the morning sun. It would all be a dream and her beloved would be where he had always been, where he always would be, buried with his brother beneath the roots of the cursed Tree of Life.

Just then, her apparition groaned, screwed up his face and stretched like a satisfied cat. Gradually his eyes opened, blinking and blinking. He looked round slowly, eyes adjusting to the light in a manner she thought looked painful despite the fact she'd kept the curtains drawn for him, until they settled on her very surprised visage.

He frowned and croaked, "Wh… where am I?"

Garnet cocked her head. "I'm not even sure where _I_ am."

Zidane stared at her, baffled. "Am I dreaming?"

"If anyone's dreaming, it's surely me."

"So… I'm in your dreams? You're in all of mine." He smirked, eyes glinting in the dim light. "Sexy dreams. So if this is a dream, you better start taking your clothes off."

Garnet took a few steps back. "Oh. It seems neither of us are dreaming." _Either that, or this is a very realistic dream._

This seemed to perk Zidane up a bit, realisation dawning in his cerulean eyes. He sat up sharply and hailed, "Dagger!" before promptly doubling over and stuttering, "A – ah shit I'm gonna throw up –"

Garnet gestured frantically at the bathroom just as Zidane lunged through the door and noisily vomited last night's 'midnight snack' and the contents of three bottles of wine down the toilet.

_Not how I imagined it at all…_ Garnet lamented with a thoughtful sigh, but kept her peace and patience as she waited for him to remerge.

He did so after a few rounds of fruitless gagging, staggering against the doorframe. He cradled his forehead with one hand and moaned, "Oh geez, my head. My freakin' head…"

"And your stomach, by the sounds of it."

Zidane looked up grimly, then pointed an accusing finger. "How come you're not hung over?"

She went to the bed and busily began fluffing pillows while primly lecturing, "Because I know my limits, Mr Tribal. Now are you getting up or not? It's almost midday!"

"Firstly, I don't believe for a second that your limit is two glasses of wine. Secondly, midday isn't late. Thirdly, me going back to bed depends entirely on the company." This last comment was accompanied by a trademark smirk that sent the doubt and relief duelling in her heart.

"I… I have things to do. You can rest longer, if you want. I'll tell the maids to leave off for a while."

Zidane clambered back into bed, under the covers this time (though still fully clothed), nursing his head and stomach. "Leave off?" he repeated with overacted incredulity. "Send them in! Someone'll have to keep me company if you wont do it."

Garnet gave him a little smile and a look before slipping through the door and softly pulling it closed behind her.

iii.

And for a few hours, it was as if he'd never returned. The castle was clean, her duties still applied, the Pluto Knights were dressed appropriately and patrolling with all their usual inattentiveness, and so she began to think she had dreamed the whole fiasco after all.

In fact, by the time Alexandria's church bells struck three, she had convinced herself that Zidane couldn't possibly be back. That the mirage had been a symptom of her broken heart. Her desire to see him returned was so great that her mind had actually invented it to be so. She was ready to receive the burden of her sorrow once more when even that fragile idea was shattered by two voices drifting from the Entrance Hall.

Cautiously, Garnet diverted her path and entered, then peered over the banister.

"- care if you've been back no more than day, nor do I care about your previous state of well being!" one man raged. "In this castle you must dress accordingly and by not doing so you directly insult the law of conduct and Her Majesty –"

"Dagger wont care."

"Why must we battle like mindless animals when you could solve it by doing as you're told!?"

"Where's the fun in that?"

"Grrr, you blasted rapscallion, I'm in a right of mind to –"

"Goodness," Garnet's melodious voice impeded their feud as she descended down the velvet-lined stairs towards them. "Zidane's been back less than a day and already you two are bickering like children over a toy?"

Adelbert Steiner and Zidane stared up at the queen with contrasting expressions: Steiner's that of shame and mild anger, Zidane's that of innocence and unconcern.

"Well he –"

"Your Majesty –"

"Stop, please," she interrupted softly. "No fighting, okay? Steiner I understand your concerns – " She paused to scrutinise Zidane's stained white shirt and torn breeches – "but you must be lenient. For my sake?"

Steiner growled in Zidane's direction, then saluted. "Yes, Your Majesty."

"And be kind," she added.

Steiner took a deep breath, then turned back to the grinning thief. "And… I'm glad you're back. For Her Majesty, especially."

Zidane shrugged it all off with another easy grin. "S'alright."

But Garnet was frozen on the staircase, a slight frown on her brow and her fingers just touching her lips. Her eyes were like cups of chocolate melting in a pan. Tears began fall, curving down her cheeks and pattering onto the carpet. Before Zidane could question her well being, she abruptly threw herself down the stairs and into his arms, planting a great kiss on his cheek.

"I'm so glad you're back!" she sobbed. "Don't ever do that again, you oaf! Don't ever leave me again!"


	3. Premature

A/N: I'm gonna add this here after I got a review politely saying that Zidane was only gone for one year, not two, as I have depicted. It's funny because I remember throwing the same complaint at a fellow fanfic writer some years back (Myshu, in fact), who politely replied that, actually, I was wrong because it was never stated. For some bizarre reason I was very sure of myself and went about researching, even replaying the end of the game, only to discover that all it says before the ending scenes roll is 'Some time later…' I depicted a two year absence instead of one because of Garnet's hair. See, people marvel at how quickly my hair grows, but like hell anyone's hair is gonna grow from being THAT short to THAT long in the space of one year. If anyone has any actual evidence backing the one year theory and is eager to ram my claims down my throat, I'd love to hear it! I've always been interested to know for certain.

That out the way, thank you so much for the lovely reviews! I think I managed to reply to all of them this time round and your interest and support is a real morale booster! So onto the next chapter. Ah, sexual tension, we meet again…

(It's suddenly occurred to me that people who haven't read BBB might be a bit bemused by the opening. Hopefully you'll get the gist!)

**

* * *

**

**Chapter Two  
**. premature .

i.

"When's the baby due?"

Garnet nearly spat her tea all over the filigree table. She managed to restrain herself, but barely, and between a few indelicate splutters she choked, "What!?"

Eiko Carol narrowed her eyes. "Oh no, don't even think about playing dumb, missy. You've been with Zidane a _whole_ day – surely that's time enough to make a baby?"

"Now, Eiko, a lady mustn't be so forward with such subjects," Freya elegantly came to Garnet's aid. "It's not polite to ask."

"It's not even been a day," Garnet mumbled.

"Plenty of time to call the Magic Chocbo," Eiko retaliated, deadly serious.

Bemused, Freya went to question that remark, but Garnet waved away her curiosity and hurriedly invented, "Oh no, these things take time. The Magic Chocobo can't just be summoned at whim. It takes time and effort and love –"

"A spell!"

"Yes. Yes, a spell of sorts. To prove you're worthy of receiving the ah… magic seed."

Eiko nodded with an air of superiority. "Mmm, you're right, I suppose. It is a bit soon. But I better be the first to know when you do! The first, y'hear!?"

Garnet smiled awkwardly, deeming it safe to pour another cup of tea. "Of course. The first."

Satisfied (thank the gods), Eiko resumed munching biscuits and slurping juice from a china cup. The dress she wore was a pretty pink, fastened around her middle with a yellow sash. It clashed horrendously with her personality. Hilda had taught her manners and etiquette (though clearly not subtly) yet it was the execution that eluded Eiko. She simply couldn't restrain her feral, rambunctious behaviour, and the clothes made her appear as an actor wearing a costume, though from a distance she looked adorable and extremely convincing.

A sudden cry distracted the three ladies, and when they looked for its source they found Zidane and Amarant engaged in battle. Well, more of a scuffle really, though Amarant seemed to be taking it seriously.

"Those two." Freya sighed. "Some things don't change."

"No…"

"Can you believe it?"

"Hmm?"

"His return."

Garnet looked across the lawn at the battling thief. "I… suppose not. It was all so sudden and unexpected. A part of me hates him for keeping everything secret for so long. He could've sent a letter, a messenger – anything!"

"Ruuuddee!" Eiko chimed.

"Theatrics," Freya scoffed.

"Both," Garnet granted. "But I should've expected something like that from him. He… I don't think he understands how much it hurt…"

Freya rested a paw on the queen's knee and offered a sympathetic smile. "They never do."

Garnet suddenly felt very selfish. The dragon knight had been through much of the same experience, except Frately's disappearance had spanned five years and when he finally returned he'd forgotten all about Freya's love. How awful that must have been! Now that Garnet had a real insight into the torment of Freya's heart she was overwhelmed with gratitude that Zidane had been returned to her whole and well.

Her eyes wandered across the lawn again. It was a small section of Alexandria's grand gardens, where Garnet, Freya and Eiko currently occupied an elegant pagoda that crowned its centre. The grass was sheared short and intersected by gravely paths that snaked toward the pagoda in motionless streams, sheltered on all sides by symmetrical borders sprouting tall, colourful flora. The castle dominated the skyline ahead and a vast lake reflected the blue sky behind them. It would have been peaceful, if not for the brawling teen and bounty hunter.

"That all you got, monkey?" Amarant jeered as Zidane leapt several paces backward.

"I haven't even started!" he countered with a smirk.

They met again in a clash of fists. Amarant's hands seemed so large that they might squash Zidane's head like a fruit, but for what Zidane lacked in size he made up for in agility, ducking and weaving between the redhead's shuddering blows. The blonde landed a sneaky kick to the back of Amarant's knee, and it nearly sent him tumbling, but the hunter used a long arm to counterbalance his weight and kicked his leg in a sweeping arc. Zidane leapt high and it missed, but Amarant used the momentum of the kick to swing himself back around and his balled fist caught Zidane dead centre and sent him flying into a patch of peonies.

"Stand, monkey," Amarant taunted from the border. "Fight me."

But Zidane didn't stand. He remained where he fell, barely able to sit up and panting and heaving with a bead of sweat running from brow to chin.

Garnet straightened in her seat. "Zidane…?"

"I…I'm…f-fine…" he panted, wincing as he tried to stand unaided.

The queen had thought nothing of their playful brawl (playful as Zidane saw it, anyway) yet all of a sudden the bottles of medicine stacked beneath her sink shot to mind and she cursed herself for being inattentive.

As Amarant strolled with dangerous nonchalance toward the prone blonde she leapt from her chair. "Lay off, Amarant," she commanded, yet made sure to keep her tone as dispassionate as possible. "That's enough, please. I hate it when you two fight."

The hunter regarded her grimly beneath his dreads, then shrugged and went to brood beneath a tree. Garnet crossed the lawn with restrained urgency and dropped beside the injured thief.

"You okay?" she asked softly.

Zidane sat up and failed to hide a wince and the strain in his voice as he chirped: "Yep. Dandy. Caught me off guard. Next time –"

"There wont be a next time," she impeded sternly. "There's no point in tempting fate."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're not entirely better, are you? So why get into fights with someone you know isn't a push over?"

"Fought in worse conditions…" he mumbled poutily. "And won."

Garnet smiled and plucked a few stray petals from his hair and clothes. "You can win another day. Are you hurt anywhere specific? Broken bones?"

"Just my ego," he admitted as he got to his feet uncertainly. He looked over at Amarant. "We'll call it a draw then?"

"In your dreams, monkey boy."

She smiled at Zidane's grudging defeat, then stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "There," she said. "A token for the loser, okay?"

He looked pleased, but feigned moodiness as he trotted off to the pagoda and muttered, "Am _not_ a loser…"

Garnet reclaimed her seat at the lattice table while Zidane declined Freya's offer of tea, grabbed a handful of biscuits and laid on the lawn instead, basking in the remaining sunlight like an oversized cat.

After a time, Steiner came to join them, throwing Zidane a frosty stare when he didn't move, then pointedly stepping over him despite the ample room to step around. He removed his helm politely and set it on the table, accepting Freya's tea this time and engaging in small talk about the castle's defences.

Warmed by the company, Garnet brightly exclaimed, "Oh, it's like a reunion!" before immediately regretting it.

There could never be a reunion. Not truly.

ii.

She remembered the events leading up to receiving the letter with startling clarity, though the day itself wasn't special. Mene had stomped into the Hall of Serenity (as much as a moogle could stomp, anyway), complaining that he wasn't part of the 'confounded' mognet system so he shouldn't have to be delivering letters to or from anyone. He unceremoniously threw the letter onto her lap and departed, which she was grateful for later, because she didn't want anyone to see her cry like she had. Not ever.

It had been written by Mikoto. Written in a manner so apathetic and thoughtless it had made her blood boil for a moment, but the grief quickly overshadowed even that.

_Queen Garnet Til Alexandros XVII,_

_I apologise in advance for not being proficient in the Gaian art of writing letters, or delivering news in an appropriate manner; it is all I can do to simply state the information. Earlier this morning, the Black Mage you called Vivi stopped. Mr. 126 found him by a stream in the forest. Mr. 126 told me he went there so the children would not see. They have been informed. He appeared to have stopped peacefully. Judging by his behaviour the night previous (he was very calm, yet seemed uncharacteristically fatigued, though not in a literal sense, as if his soul was tired) he had known his stopping was at hand, and did not seem distressed. Mr. 163 said you would find some comfort in that. We buried Vivi in the graveyard. Mr. 58 informed me only after that it is customary among you Gaians to hold a service. I did not know that and I apologise for not letting you know, as the burial has already been completed. If you come, I will show you where we put him. _

_Mikoto._

Zidane's 'sister' had written to no one else; that job had been left to Garnet. Once she'd composed herself and the worst of the grief had faded so she could hold a quill without it shaking or the ink becoming smudged by tears, she wrote to her compatriots one by one and told them the news.

By unspoken agreement, there were no funeral rites. They met at Vivi's grave on an unremarkable day and laid flowers and spoke to his sons and left again. She'd even spotted Amarant lurking in the shadows, which was really something. They had all known the day of Vivi's stopping would come faster than anyone wanted, but it didn't make it less painful.

His absence was always felt, but now she'd managed to make that hole gape wider, and the strained silence wasn't helping anything.

And remarkably, for he had mentioned nothing of Vivi's passing (not from callousness but because the pain was particularly scorching for the genome) Zidane was the first to break it. "Yeah, I sure miss the little guy. I can't believe about his sons! They're… incredible."

Garnet grasped the uplifting tone when she spotted Eiko furiously gnawing her lip in an attempt to stop the tears from falling. "Yes, they are. He was so proud. You know how he did right?"

"Magic Chocobo?" Zidane joked, and Garnet grinned.

"No. You really don't know? You haven't spoken to Mikoto?"

He shook his head. "Nah. I was pretty unconscious when she dragged me outta the tree. Why?"

Garnet waved a hand. "Ugh. It's complicated. You should go see her; she'll explain."

"Or bore me to death."

"It's not boring," Freya reprimanded. "It's fascinating. She's remarkably intelligent for her age."

Zidane shrugged, turning his gaze skyward. "I don't think intelligence is relative to age in the genome world."

"I quite agree," Freya said. "In your case, you have the body of an eighteen year old and the brain of half that."

"Ouch."

The shadows stirred; Amarant was laughing.

"Well, you should go see anyway," Garnet pressed. "It's linked with your heritage, afterall."

Zidane rolled over. "I don't want anything to do with it, thanks."

The party exchanged looks. The queen shrugged, deeming it futile to pursue the subject, and so it was dropped for another. The banter went on until the sky shrugged on a turquoise cloak and the first stars winked in its diamond trim.

"Well, I best be off," Freya announced, placing her teacup on the saucer with a pleasant chink. "Eiko and I are travelling together aboard the Hilda Garde III, and Lady Hilda and Regent Cid want to return early tomorrow, I think."

"Poo," Eiko dismissed. "It's not even proper dark yet! I want to stay up!"

"I have dithered too long from my rounds as it is," Steiner added. "Beatrix will have my head if she discovers the length of my respite."

"More than your head, I bet," came the mumbled retort from the lawn.

Freya nodded and smiled with obvious affection. "Goodnight to you Steiner, Garnet." She gave Zidane a terse kick as she walked him by. "And to you, oaf. Mind yourself."

"Yeeaahh."

Eiko finally surrendered and chirped her farewells (winding Zidane as she jumped him with a childish hug) before scuttling after Freya to their rooms. Steiner continued his duties and it seemed Amarant had disappeared without a word, perhaps hours ago.

Alone now, Garnet hopped off the pagoda and sat beside the thief on the lawn.

"Hello, beautiful," he purred. "Just you and me, huh?"

"Seems so." She gazed wistfully at the moons, their giant faces pock marked by visible craters, yet still so flawless through her eyes. "I'm so sorry about Vivi…"

Zidane played with the ends of her long hair like a kitten with a ball of yarn, perhaps in a conscious effort to distract himself. "He spoke to me before, you know."

"Oh really!? What… before…?"

"Yeah. He did know he was gonna…"

"Oh. Can I… May I ask what he said?"

"Mmm… Maybe. One day."

Garnet fiddled with a pearl on her shoe. "Everyone's going home tomorrow…"

"Mmm."

"What… where… uh… Will you stay here? At the castle?"

"I want to stay with you, Dagger."

He sounded sincere, and she didn't doubt his feelings (he could have simply not returned to he afterall, and she would be none the wiser), yet there was still something nagging her. She looked hard for it, struggling to find the words. "I want you here too… but… I don't… I mean, you can't… the castle is so different to where you've lived before…"

"I'll adjust."

She looked down at him, at the grass stains on his shirt and the petals in his hair and the bruise beginning to bloom on his face. "I don't want you to change, Zidane. Not for me, not for anyone."  
"I wont."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

_Still_… "I really want you to stay with me but… if it ever gets too much I wont ever stop you leaving, or begrudge you for it. I swear that. I swear it. I understand completely if you –"

He sat up abruptly and took her hands. His eyes were lavender in the twilight. "Dagger, I'm not going to leave you again. I have nowhere else to go. I don't _need_ anywhere else. I'm home. _You're_ my home."

She clearly caught the sincerity in his eyes this time and smiled, her worries quelled. "Thanks, Zidane."

iii.

However, there did remain one small matter of concern. Well, there were many matters to be sorted, but this was the first on the list, and one that left her quite baffled.

And her maids too, by the looks of things.

"Ah, I don't think you've been formally introduced yet," Garnet said. "Zidane, these are my two ladies-in-waiting, Briar and Nell."

"Always a pleasure to meet such lovely ladies," Zidane greeted with a theatrical bow that left the girls silly and ruffled.

Garnet rolled her eyes. "Girls, this is Zidane Tribal. You might know already, and if you do not you will probably be the first to hear it, that Zidane will… he will be staying at the castle henceforth and ah… um…" She trailed off, wondering where she was going.

Briar, faster to catch on than Nell, curtsied and respectfully lowered her lashes. "We will take care to knock in the mornings."

It wasn't exactly what Garnet had been hinting toward. She hadn't even thought about _that_. She'd actually been wondering whether Zidane would be sharing her chamber at all (it was custom for king and queen to sleep separately – her mother and father had had two separate rooms – though Zidane wasn't a king of any kind so the situation had her flummoxed), but by the way he was kicking off his boots, he hadn't a clue about royal customs, anyway.

"Yes, well, don't worry just yet. I… there's so much that needs sorting, you know…"

"Is he staying forever?" Nell whispered. "Are you marrying? Or is he just a lover?"

"I… I don't know what's happening yet," Garnet whispered back. "But not a word from either of you to anyone. There's no point in the court or nobility getting wind of this just yet. I'm sure there's plenty who would seize some kind of advantage in knowing I'm sharing my chambers with a man of… unrecognised status."

The maids nodded, eyes round with romance, anxiety and excitement. Garnet sighed, feeling much older than she was, yet still devastatingly young in many things. Sometimes it was hard remembering her status, that even the tiniest of desires and decisions could affect her _and_ the throne. Sometimes she wished things were simpler, that duty was not quite such a heavy burden.

"I'll see you in the morning," she dismissed with an affectionate smile. "And not a word, remember?"

The girls curtsied low, unable to hide their playful grins. "Yes, Your Majesty." They turned their bows toward Zidane. "Master Zidane."

The master in question grinned and winked, and the girls giggled as they scurried through door because he had already tugged off his waistcoat and was in the process of shrugging out of his shirt.

Garnet shut the door quietly then turned and leant against it, hands clutching the frame. Her nerves were hot sparks in the pit of her belly, her thoughts slurred and her breathing sharp. She didn't know what she wanted, not yet. The thing was, how to tell him that?

"I'm glad you're back," she started numbly. "I'm still getting used to… it's so strange… everything has happened so fast… I thought you were…"

"Dead?" he finished with a crooked smile. "Mmm. Me too. Almost. Lucky for both of us Death was in a good mood, eh?"

He approached her then, where she stood frozen in the doorway, but stopped short upon noting her expression. Garnet, on the other hand, had suddenly noticed the unfamiliar wounds marring his chest. She remembered clearly his scars (she had seen his naked torso so many times during fiddly healing procedures): the thin sliver above his navel, the thicker red one just below his collarbone, the slight nick on his neck (where he'd almost had his throat slit in a Treno alleyway years ago, apparently), and the pale triangle on his ribcage. Now the fresher ones dulled these. They had healed, but she could tell which ones had been infected and which ones had been deep, and it didn't make them any less jagged or horrible. There had been an obvious close call just above his heart; the sight of it made her stomach lurch.

"Iifa's vines," Zidane explained bluntly.

Garnet nodded, tracing one with a finger. "It must have been terrible…"

He shrugged.

"Did it hurt a lot?"

"Ah… sometimes. Boss drugged me up pretty good; couldn't feel or think a thing half the time."

"You… you could've called me, Zidane. I would've come to you. My magic would've aided the healing, drawn out the toxins. Why -?"

He scrunched up his face and abruptly cut her off. "I don't wanna talk about that now."

"But –"

"Later. I can think of better things to do at the moment…"

The view of her bedroom disappeared so suddenly that it was only when she tasted Quina's homemade cookies that she realised he was kissing her. It was gentle, but persistent, and inarguably startling, to the point where her grasp on time wavered so she could've remained immobile for an hour or a second. When the shock wore off she kissed back hesitantly, reminded of the time aboard the Blue Narciss. Arguably, that had been their first kiss, which had begun as confusing and ended violently, yet for some reason this kiss was just as muddling.

He eradicated any remaining space between them; she was sandwiched between him and the closed door. And his hands had found her now, firmly pressed against her waistline. She was glad they weren't moving. He'd been back for an evening and a day and it had been a dream-like cloud of emotion. This wasn't helping anything. It was too much at once. She wanted it, but not yet.

Garnet managed to pull away.

"Ah," she said breathlessly. "I… Zidane, I…"

Despite her doubt, the kiss had left her tingling with pleasure, face all flushed and breathing short and sweet. She could see the lust in Zidane's eyes, though he seemed much more composed.

Garnet failed to find the words, but the look in her eye must have been enough.

"Oh," Zidane said. "Oh. Hehehe, sorry, I just needed a kiss goodnight." Yet he seemed reluctant to remove his hands.

She swallowed noisily. "Mmm, that's okay. Um…" _Gods, what do I say? How do I word it so he doesn't get angry? Or feel guilty?_ "I just… For tonight, would you mind sleeping… somewhere else?"

He blinked, and for an awful moment he did look hurt, but then his gaze scouted the room and he grinned. "I'll go sleep on the couch, then."

She glanced at the antique sofa against the wall. "Oh. Yeah I guess you can –"

"Did you want me to sleep in another room?"

"Oh no, that's fine! I just… I'm sorry but…"

He snorted – "Gods, don't be!" – and relinquished his hands. "Geez, you think I can't wait for someone like you?"

Her face abruptly caught fire and she failed to form a reply. Instead, she just said, "I'll get ready for bed in the bathroom."

He had seen her in her underwear a handful of times, but now it was different, and she didn't fancy fuelling his temporarily quelled lust any more. She walked on unsteady feet to the en suite, closed the door and dressed for bed. She washed her face and plaited her hair, regarding her pink complexion in the looking glass and tried to organise her scattered thoughts. Maybe she was being silly. Maybe there was no need to wait. Maybe he would have more to say, and she'd find solace in his words?

But all she found when she left the bathroom was a fully clothed, snoring Zidane spread-eagled on her bed.

She sighed, defeated by her love, and went to sleep on the sofa.


	4. Rumours That Ail

Something to note: me + politics = infinite confusion. But I believe it's called blagging, so kindly reserve any crits you have about it. Once again, thanks for the support and reviews, and enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Three  
**. rumours that ail .

i.

"Open up."

"No.

"Open up!"

"Mm-mm."

"You're being such a baby!"

"Don't care."

"Honesty, it's like communicating with a child! Why wont you just take your medicine!?"

Zidane, who was sitting cross armed and crossed legged on the edge of Garnet's bed, compressed his lips until they were a bloodless line and cast her a defiant look.

Garnet's blood was boiling from his lack of cooperation, and the two vials of medicine had remained untouched despite her commendable efforts. He'd already missed his doses yesterday (she'd forgotten what with the commotion of being reunited with her friends) so was determined to make him take it today. She'd had no idea that Zidane and medicine were two words not meant for the same sentence.

Before resorting to outright force, Garnet approached on a more reasonable note. "Alright, _why_ wont you take your medicine?"

"Tastes like shit," Zidane mumbled from the corner of his mouth.

Garnet raised the spoon and sniffed. It had the aroma of burnt tree bark with a slightly acidic edge, the smell of potions, she recognised. "It can't taste that bad," she reasoned.

Zidane raised his eyebrows and gestured to the spoon, his expression saying, _'You try it then.'_

"Fine," she said, "I will."

The moment the amethyst liquid touched her tongue she had to fight the urge to spit it out. It was awful, like rotting mushrooms and unrefined spirits. Yet what would a queen be without a stoic mask? She donned it now, as she had done many times when confronting wily nobles, and raised a testy eyebrow. "It's fine," she rasped, then cleared her throat. "See, if I can do it, so can you."

Zidane frowned a moment, obviously contemplating a bash to his ego, then decided the foul tasting liquid wasn't worth any small triumph. He closed his eyes and shook his head.

Garnet lowered the spoon again with a sigh. "How _did_ Blank do it?"

Zidane opened his eye a crack, an unspoken question fired in her direction.

"Blank," she repeated. "He made you take this medicine, didn't he? How did he make you do it?"

"Bundled me," Zidane said from the corner of his mouth again. "Surprise attack. Or everyone held me down." His eyes twinkled. "Didn't get me all the time…"

Suddenly, something marvellously devious blossomed in Garnet's head, and she barely managed to suppress a wicked grin. She feigned nonchalance instead and offhandedly commented, "I bet Blank would take it..."

This was rewarded with a sharp, suspicious glare. "Hmm?"

With her free hand, Garnet absently traced the embroidery on the bedcovers. "Oh, I was just thinking… It's nothing really."

"What?"

Her gaze trailed to the ceiling. "Just that, well, Blank would take it without a fuss."

"How do you know anything about Blank?" There was definitely something green in his tone this time.

"Blank? Why, he visits me all the time!"

"Oh he does, does he?" Voice rising in volume.

"Only to keep me company," Garnet amended with a guileless look. "While you were away. So we've gotten to know each other quite well and… I just know that _he_ would take the medicine, you know? He's really quite brave and would never cause such a commotion over something as silly as –"

"Give me that," Zidane barked, and snatched the bottle off the bedside table. He drank straight from the top and Garnet yelled in alarm. She wrestled the medicine away with a gusty reprimand. "Don't drink so much! Too much of that stuff could kill you! Are you so stupid!?"

Zidane went to say something, but he suddenly turned a literal shade of green. "Ergh… that… that's awful…ack…"

"Are you going to be sick?" she trilled, jumping up in alarm and spilling the spoonful onto the carpet.

He doubled over but waved away her concern. "No, no, just… ergh… tastes so bad… Cinna's cooking… no match for this…"

She rubbed his back, feeling a bit guilty. "You only needed a spoonful…" No reply. Zidane made a gagging noise. "It does taste bad, doesn't it?" she admitted. "Have you learnt your lesson?"

"Yes, ma'am…"

She bent down and kissed his cheek. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have wound you up. But just take your medicine in the future, okay? It's for your own good. And next time I'll mix it with a drink."

He looked up hopefully. "Whisky?"

"If you're good," she teased.

He lay back on the bed. "Blank didn't really visit you, did he?"

"Well, yeah. Do you mind?"

"Mmm… nah, just ah…"

"It wasn't, and never will, be like _that_, Zidane. He brought Ruby with him most of the time, anyway."

Zidane chuckled. "I bet that went down a treat."

"They're so funny together..."

"Yeah. Those two have been on and off for years…"

They trailed into silence. Garnet flicked the end of his tail, watching it twitch. After a moment she said, "If you don't mind me asking… because I guess I'm a bit confused… and I don't really know how these things work…"

"What?"

"Are we… what are we doing, exactly? Courting? Dating? Partners?"

He grinned at her. "I'm anything you want me to be, baby."

"What do _you_ want to be?"

"I just want to be by your side."

She paused, and at that moment it really did seem that simple. Again, she felt as if she was caught in a whirlwind, so many new and complicated emotions blowing her round and round in circles. She wished everything would just be still for a moment so she could think.

For now, though, all she knew is that he was here, and she loved him, and no one would ever take him away again.

The door to the chamber suddenly slammed open with a thunderous bang, and both queen and thief shrieked in alarm. Garnet leapt to her feet (almost tripping on her cumbersome skirts) and whirled to see who blocked the doorway. To her surprise, it was a servant dressed in dirty rags. She was about to get angry at his unannounced intrusion when she suddenly noted his flustered expression and panting.

"Your Majesty," he bowed hurriedly, almost tipping forward. "Pardon the intrusion but the most awful – there are no words – you must come –"

"What is it?" she barked, unable to hide her rising terror.

The man looked her dead in the eye and said, "It's happened again."

Realisation dawned and the queen nodded. "Quickly, return outside and tell the guards if they act without command I'll have them demoted. Go!"

The servant left without bowing, accidentally slamming the door in Garnet's face.

"What's happening?" Zidane demanded. He rounded on Garnet as she yanked open the door and began trotting along the corridor. "Dagger, what's going on!?"

Much to his surprise, she quirked a wry smile. "You'll see."

Bemused, Zidane jogged after her, offering an apologetic shrug to Garnet's baffled maids who had emerged from their chambers to see what the fuss was about.

They wove along the corridors and down a spiral staircase, then through a few less opulent corridors that, Zidane guessed, led to the servant quarters. The heat and the smells of cooked food preceded the kitchens even before Garnet threw the door aside and dashed between counters and startled chefs (Quina included, who loudly complained that 'too much commotion spoils yummies') then out through a back door. Here, a vast plot of land was wedged between the lake and the castle's far flank, and on its mown turf was a vegetable patch. It suddenly became very plain what the trouble consisted of.

"Lay off!" Garnet yelled as she stomped toward the patch. "I said stand down! Lay down your weapons! I mean it! Not a drop of blood is to be spilt!"

Zidane sprinted in front of her then stopped short of the apparent atrocity, his mouth hanging open in disbelief. He did, however, manage a startled, "_Choco_!?"

Upon hearing its name, the golden bird looked up from the vegetable patch it was currently ravaging and offered its surroundings a lazy, uninterested stare. When it recognised the owner of the voice however, it chirped and raked the earth in delight (inducing a devastated wail from the gardeners) and butted the genome affectionately with its feathery head.

"It _is_ you!" Zidane exclaimed, patting Choco's neck dubiously. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Garnet joined the pair with difficulty, her dainty slippers sinking into the fertile turf, then said, "_Bad_ chocobo. How many times do I have to tell you? This isn't chocobo food, it's _people_ food. You can't keep eating it!"

Her reprimand lacked any spite though, and it seemed, judging by their downcast expressions, the lingering guards and gardeners had heard it all before. Garnet tapped Choco's beak and the bird twittered affectionately.

"What's Choco doing here?" Zidane asked again as the bird continued to rub his head against him like a cat.

Garnet shrugged. "Eating vegetables, by the looks of it. Actually, I was curious where Choco had gone after you… disappeared. I worried about him. I didn't know if you had looked after him or where he lived or if he was even safe. Anyway, I tracked him down to a forest near Lindblum. Mene agreed that Choco could live here on a few conditions…"

"Mene did? He's so weird."

Garnet grinned. "You don't know the half of it."

"So did he escape from his pen?"

"Choco? Oh no. I don't _keep_ Choco. Not exactly. He has a warm stable to sleep in if he wants, but he has the run of the castle grounds too." She offhandedly remarked, "I didn't know chocobo could _fly_…"

Zidane glanced round at the watching staff. "Err… don't people get pissed off?"

Garnet smiled. "Yep. But I could never restrain him, and if it means ruining the odd vegetable patch…" She shrugged. "Choco's a bit of a troublemaker."

Zidane mirrored her grin with an even wider one. "Hehehe, that's my buddy!"

In one deft motion, he swung onto Choco's back. "I'll go put 'im back in the stables!" the boy declared, with no obvious room for argument. He then clicked his tongue and Choco turned and started toward the great lake.

"B-but Zidane!" Garnet yelled, gathering her wits. "You don't even know where it is!"

He waved a hand dismissively. "I'll find it! Be back in a sec!"

"Oh no," Garnet muttered to herself. "I know that parting phrase. He wont be back for at least a day…"

The servants gasped as Choco mounted the lake and the water yielded. Zidane urged him into a flat-out run half way across, and then the sun glancing off the waves was so bright it obscured them from view, and Garnet returned to the castle.

And as it happened, Zidane was gone for three days, and never did find the stables, but returned with three lapis lazuli, six phoenix downs, five hi-potions and a gladius instead.

ii.

_I am not spying_, Zidane resolutely told himself for the hundredth time. _I'm just looking. And listening. In secret... But it's not spying. I am _not_ spying. _

The keyhole had thankfully been key-free, making for a perfect spying hole (_looking hole, _looking_ hole_) into the room behind the closed doors. It was a small, homely space, Zidane had immediately noticed, which was quite an anomaly in such a vast castle. Its walls were painted honey-gold and dotted with paintings of Alexandria's streets. The varnished table didn't impose upon the space and sported just four high-backed chairs. The fireplace was unlit, yet still a pleasant feature, and the window shutters were thrown wide to let the afternoon sun warm its interior.

Yet as nice as this little seating room was, it didn't catch Zidane's interest half as much as its occupants: Queen Garnet and some stranger who had had the audacity to waltz in uninvited, request an audience without advance notice, then damn well get it!

And no one would tell Zidane who he was!

So the thief decided it would do no harm just to spy – ah, _look_ – at what they were doing. Especially as Dagger had so eagerly excused herself from Zidane's presence, then didn't even invite him along _or_ introduce him to this presumptuous bastard!

Zidane shifted to get a better look. Unfortunately the stranger was sat in a chair obscured from view. However, Zidane had a perfect view of Dagger. She was wearing a simple white smock with some lace detailing along the hem, and her hair was let loose in waves that, in their unkempt nature, the thief found slightly erotic. Despite her unearthly beauty, Zidane knew enough of her wardrobe to recognise this as 'dressing down'. He didn't know whether that was a good or bad thing. When receiving important guests Dagger often spent an hour dressing to fit the role, yet she had been entirely unconcerned about her appearance this time and had invited him into one of the apparently more informal rooms for chat.

What _were_ they chatting about anyway?

Zidane strained his ears.

"…lovely… and the… a walk sometime?"

"I would… so wonderful… staying."

"… so perfect… greatly missed…"

"…the same… time together… "

Although he couldn't hear _everything_, he had certainly heard enough, and eidolons be damned if he was going to let it go any further. Straightening, Zidane decided his best tactic was surprise. If he burst through the door and gave that bastard a piece of his –

"Master Zidane?"

"Ya – a_ah_!"

The spy twirled and thudded his head against the door, heart juddering like a miner's pickaxe against his ribcage.

Briar stared up at him with oblivious innocence. "Are you… alright?"

Urging his tail to cease bristling and his breathing to slow, Zidane nervously snapped, "Yep, fine. Ah, man you're quiet, you a thief or something? You get off scaring a man to death? Geez."

She curtsied, then irritatingly read into his actions. "Do you wish to be introduced to her majesty's guest, my lord?"

"Ah… 'my lord'?"

"Yes."

"Me?"

"Yes…"

Zidane sniggered; he couldn't help himself. It soon bubbled into laughter and he waved a hand. "Ahahaha… gods, no. Call me Zidane okay? Just 'Zidane'."

Briar looked uncomfortable with the suggestion, but curtsied obediently. "And the introduction?"

Zidane cracked his knuckles. "Hmph. I'll give him a gods damn introduction he'll never forget. In fact, I think I'll do it right –"

"Zidane?"

The thief spun round again and stared bashfully into the bemused eyes of his girlfriend, who cocked an amused eyebrow. "Did you… want to come in? Or are you too busy inspecting the keyhole?"

_Damn, she's getting good. _"No…"

Dagger stepped aside with a pardoning smile and Zidane followed her lead.

Inside, the unfamiliar guest rose from his chair and stepped forward to greet the newcomer. He was very tall, and Zidane was struck first by his nice brown eyes that girls probably found attractive, and then by the charismatic quirk to his smile that was probably quite attractive too.

Despite being an actor, Zidane found it very hard pretending to be nice while combating jealousy.

"Who the hell is this?"

Dagger's face dropped (no doubt forgetting that Zidane didn't know a thing of court etiquette) then let out an awkward laugh. She pressed her palms together and was about to introduce her guest when he in question did just that.

Whilst making a sweeping bow, the man said, "Ah, forgive my rudeness. I am Dimitri van Kenton. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance Lord… um, sir…" Here he looked toward Dagger with a politely confused expression, baffled no doubt by Zidane's less than courtly appearance.

"Just Zidane, buddy," Zidane grated, before Dagger could do the honours.

She sent him a warning look. "He's my… good friend."

"Zidane?" Dimitri repeated with a note of incredulity. "_The_ Zidane? Zidane Tribal?"

Zidane raised his eyebrows. "Uh… yeah? What's it to ya? I owe you money or somethin'?"

"The same Zidane Tribal that defeated the evil wizard Kuja and respectively saved the entire planet from damnation?"

"Yes," Dagger confirmed hurriedly. "_That_ Zidane. Please don't bring it up, Dimi, you know I hate speaking about the war."

"Dimi?" Zidane repeated with a suspicious sidelong glance.

"Oh, Zidane this my cousin. He owns one of the largest provinces in Alexandria, so you might have heard of him."

"Nope. So… you're related?"

Dagger nodded.

Zidane grinned as the tendril of jealously curled in on itself and went to sleep. "Oh, okay then. Mind if I go? I'm starvin'."

Dagger playfully poked his side. "You're always hungry."

Zidane didn't bother saying farewell to Dimitri as he stuck his tongue out at the queen then skipped merrily from the room, intent on hassling a certain Qu for snacks.

iii.

"You're in love with him."

Garnet's cheeks pinked but she offered an innocently baffled expression anyway. "With who?"

Dimi rolled his eyes. "With the dove outside the window, of course!" He wagged a playful finger. "Don't act coy. I saw the way you made eyes at him."

"I suppose that dove is quite dashing."

"Garnet!"

"Lovely feathers, too…"

"Oh, stop it. You should be careful anyway. There are rumours spreading already."

"What rumours?"

"About you marrying a… ah… person of minor status… "

"You mean a commoner?" she snorted with obvious disdain. "A peasant? A _thief_?"

"Now I didn't say that."

"But you were implying it."

"He's not actually a thief, is he?"

She toyed with that a moment. "Well, no. Not really. Not anymore."

"But he was?"

"Let's not talk about that. "

"Garnet, you must be more careful… If the court got wind of this…"

"Of what?" she blared. "I haven't done anything! I'm not getting married and as far as I remember there are no rules preventing queens from taking lovers."

"_Lovers_? But illegitimate heirs can cause quite a –"

"Let's not jump ahead of ourselves here…"

The lord leaned back in his chair, expression unreadable. After a moments thought he shrugged and crossed one ankle over his knee. "You know me, Garnet. We grew up together. You're one of the only people in this damn hierarchy I can honestly call a friend. I personally wont hold it against you if you go against your mother's wishes, but I can't say I agree with it. I know with absolute certainty that my mother wont agree with it."

"You're going to be mad at me, aren't you?"

His answer, "No," came two seconds too late and it left a notable chill in Garnet's heart.

"Dimi, you know I love you very much. Please don't be mad, okay?"

He laughed. "Gods, you do jump to conclusions, don't you? I'm not mad, cousin, I'm just giving you some friendly advice. My second piece of advice is keep emotion and politics separate."

Garnet sighed and stared at the unlit fireplace. "Let's not talk about this anymore. But promise you'll try and quell these stupid rumours, okay?"

"I promise, provided they are just rumours."

"Dimi, I ought to come over there and bust your brains with a candlestick!"

The lord blinked then laughed uproariously. "You're right. Let's not talk about this. Shall we walk the gardens?"

Garnet smiled and stood. Dimitri came over and took her arm, and in that moment the queen vowed that no matter what happened, no matter the cost, she would marry only the person she loved and no other.

And despite the legally binding contract that pronounced Garnet must marry Dimitri in six months, that person would be none other than Zidane.


	5. The Technicalities Behind Biology

A/N: Heeey~ I hope I managed to reply to everyone's reviews. Sorry if I didn't; I often forget. The whole 'I'll do it later' thing, heh.

Also, please don't steal my work. While I don't technically own any kind of copyright laws over my fanfiction, and while I write primarily to please and because I enjoy it, I do put time and effort into every fic, chapter and sentence, so kindly think up your own shit and don't steal mine. I've been putting up with plagiarism both overt and subtle and I've kept my peace; I wont name names. However, it's one thing to be inspired by another's work (and referencing is fine) but really, have a bit of respect. Just because your safe behind cyber-walls doesn't make copying right. Excuse me for sounding like an obnoxious preaching prat, but in the end, any feedback you receive is empty and ill gained, so what's the point?

Ahem. Forward ho, yes?

**Warning:** There is sexual content in this chapter. It's not graphic and it's not obscene, but it is there nonetheless so if you're easily offended then don't read. As it's not terribly explicit, I need your opinions! Should this be upgraded to an M? I can't decide, so please note your opinion in the review.

Also, beware a lengthy chapter!

* * *

**Chapter Four  
**. the technicalities behind biology .

i.

Just like his brother, Blank had no concept of couth. Or perhaps he did, but chose to challenge the norm with cavalier behaviour instead, fully aware how one should behave but opposing the methods with vigour. At any rate, he decided an offhanded herald of, "Knock, knock, queeny," was perfectly suitable when entering a royal chamber without previous notice.

"It would be nice if you actually did once in a while," Garnet snapped crossly, startled to her feet by the brusque intrusion.

"Oops. You're not in a mood are ya?"

"No. Go away."

"Ah, I see. It's that time of month."

"Blank! You shouldn't… oh nevermind. I don't care. Please leave me alone…"

The redhead sniffed loudly, then threw himself onto Garnet's lounger, propping one foot on the squat table and the other over the furniture's arm piece. After a moment or two of languidly contemplating Garnet's bedroom (and no doubt the expense articles on display) he inquired, "Sooo…wassup?"

Garnet knew Blank didn't like to be nagged so would readily depart if she harried him enough, but this was an unexpected opportunity she didn't want to overlook, so, grudgingly, she sat on the chair opposite him and parted with her problem.

"Zidane's left me…"

There was a stunned silence, then Blank echoed incredulously, "_Left_ you?"

The queen nodded. "Two days ago… he… he was acting strange, like moody… he wouldn't tell me what was wrong. And then he got on Choco and left."

Much to Garnet's surprise, Blank snorted. "Gods, you don't know him very well, do you?"

Garnet bristled; the accusation hit a very sensitive. "I… I _do_ know him. We travelled and… and… I spent everyday with him, Blank. The stuff we went through…"

"Yeah, yeah okay, so you know him enough to love him right? But I bet travellin' durin' the war was a bit different to living with him."

When Garnet countered this statement with a confused frown, Blank continued. "Listen kiddo, Zidane is restless, yeah? He's like a cat. He can be the most affectionate, loving, demanding little shit in the world. But he can't be tied down like a dog. He wants to run across rooftops, stalk around, go where he pleases when he pleases."

"Goodness, you almost sound poetic."

"Gods fucking forbid."

"Ruby's influence."

"Hmph. Anyways, even with us – a nomadic bunch o' thieves pretending to be actors – he used to piss off every now and again, so gods' only know what he's gonna be like livin' here."

Garnet stared with growing despondency at a teacup on the table. "He… hates it here, doesn't he?"

Blank shrugged, then tugged a small bottle from one of his numerous pockets. He pulled the cork and cocked it at Garnet. "Want some?"

"What is it?" she inquired suspiciously. "Wine?"

"Not fucking likely. Whisky. Want some?"  
Garnet wrinkled her nose, but pushed forward the delicate teacup anyway, and Blank filled it to the brim. She lifted it and inhaled, noting the pleasant amber hue and heady odour. And contrary to her initial observations, the first sip was fire on her tongue, rabid against her gums, then a slow burn down her throat and into her tummy. She gagged and Blank laughed.

"Good shit, right?"

"G-gods! N-no!"

But after the fire had turned into an admittedly pleasant warmth, Garnet decided to readdress the sensitive subject.

"What am I going to do, Blank? I want him here with me. I really do. But I could never… would never hold him down."

Blank shrugged. "What're you worryin' about? He'll come back."

"But he'll be unhappy."

"Zidane's the kind o' guy who needs to keep busy. Just give 'im somethin' to do and he'll be fine."

"Like what?"

"Beats me."

Absently, Garnet sipped her whisky and just about managed to restrain a bout of spluttering this time. She said, "Why did he leave so soon, though? It's been little more than three weeks!"

The thief took a deep swig from the bottle, staring pensively at the ceiling. "Yeah. That _is_ weird. The only time I've seen him this restless was back when his lack of heritage was gettin' up his ass… oh, and when he gets… _oh_."

"What?"

Blank's hazel eyes met hers in a piercing, speculative gaze.

A little alarmed, "_What_?"

He took another chug, then said, "You haven't put out yet, have you?"

If Garnet had been in the process of sipping her drink she would have sprayed it all over the table. "W-wh-what!!? I-I…I … I… you… we…"  
Blank cracked a cocky grin then let his gaze wander lazily – almost unintentionally – to the bed. "Oh yeah. Hit the nail square on the head."

"I…I… Blank… we, ah…"

"Quit spluttering. See, before you Zidane's never had a serious relationship. I don't think he's ever had to wait for a chick to put out, right? Understandably, it's gonna make 'im grouchy."

"Understandably?" Garnet repeated. "You mean men get… irritable if… if…"

"It's called sexual frustration, babe."

Garnet stared incredulously at the bed. _So much I just don't know. _"But Zidane and I… we travelled together… he never…"

"Yeah but you weren't like, _together_ then. Now he has to wait – and he will 'cause despite the fact he's a complete knob-end he's a good guy like that – but I bet seein' ya everyday and knowing he can't do nothin' drives him crazy. Do you sleep in the same bed?"

"Not exactly…"

"Well then. What did you expect?"

_Not that!_ "What do I do now?"

"What am I, your fuckin' relationship counsellor? Figure it out."

Garnet gulped some more whiskey. How complicated things were sometimes! Or maybe she'd made them complicated for herself by making him wait. He said he didn't mind! But the way he looked at her sometimes, eyes hazy and cheeks flushed…

It wasn't that Garnet didn't want to. She did, absolutely, and held no doubts that she wanted it to be with Zidane and no one else – but she was unspeakably nervous. It was something entirely foreign to her. She knew biologically how things were meant to work but how did one go about doing it exactly? What if she did something wrong? What if it hurt? What if it just went wrong and – and…

"It's not that big of a deal, y'know."

"Oh quiet, Blank," Garnet half-teased. "Why are you here anyway?"

"To see you, of course!"

"…"

"Alright, alright. Ruby kicked me out. Something about me chattin' up some blonde even though I totally didn't. The girl was askin' for directions for fuck's sake! So I was gonna drink myself into oblivion –"

"You mean drink until you have the courage to confront her."

" – but decided it's no fun gettin' drunk alone, so I went lookin' for a drinking buddy."

"Drunk? I am not drunk."

"Oh yeah? Stand up."

"Hmm?"

"Up."

Admittedly, Garnet's head was feeling a bit… swimmy. She'd presumed a cup of whisky would have no more effect than a cup of wine. But that stuff did smell pretty strong…

Yet she was resolute. With all the dignity she could muster, Garnet rose steadily from the chair, chin held high and skirts straightening –

-then swayed to the side, lost her footing and fell on the carpet.

"Phhft. Lightweight."

"I… I am not drunk! I just tripped you… scumbag…"

Blank clutched his heart, feigning injury. "Your foul language wounds me, madam."

"I'm merry, is all," Garnet reasoned, analysing with detached wonderment the distance of her thoughts.

"Yeah right. You're not even –"

Just then, the door opened with a resounding bang and the missing piece joined the revelry. The greeting, "Yo, Dag, I'm back, I've –" was barely past his lips when the puzzling scenery severed his sentiment. "Ah… You had a party and didn't invite me?"

"Yo," was Blank's perfunctory greeting before turning back and slurping his drink.

"Zidane!" Garnet yelped in glee. "You came back!"

"Err… yeah… Um, what are you doing?"

With some difficulty Garnet climbed to her feet and staggered into Zidane's arms, planting a very wet and whisky-smelling kiss on his lips. "I'm so sorry, Zidane. Blank explained everything to me. I'm so sorry."

"Are you drinking… _whisky_!?"

"I didn't even think about how you feel. Everything is so hectic; I hate it. I'll be better though…"

"Where's _my _goddamn whisky?"

"Right here, man," Blank said as he passed the bottle to Zidane.

"What are you doing here anyway?" the blonde asked his brother.

Blank shrugged. "Meh. Chillin'."

"Gettin' my girl pissed?"

"I am _not_ drunk…"

"Hey, I didn't make her drink it."

"Urgh…"

"Seriously, man, if you leave Ruby alone too long she'll tear that bar up until there's not even a table left standin'."

"Ah… er… y'think? Man, chicks are hard work."

"And you had to pick the worst of the bunch…"

"Hey –"

"Ah, oh – oh…" Garnet's suddenly participation ceased their coltish argument. "Oh… oh gods…I'm… I think I'm going to –"

Garnet's sentence remained unfinished as she rushed to the bathroom, which was swiftly followed by the unbefitting ruckus of vomiting drifting through the open door.

Blank raised a smug eyebrow in Zidane's direction. "What were you saying about my taste in women?"

"Oh shut up."

ii.

"Well, I hope you're feeling _very_ pleased with yourself."

The tone spared no room for cheek; the fiery outrage was negated only by the icy manner in which it was delivered. Zidane visibly blanched beneath Beatrix's swift admonishment, but couldn't resist defending himself.

"B-but! But it wasn't me it was Blank, he came in – he snuck in right under your guards' noses! – then forced whisky down Dagger's throat I swear I wasn't even… even… urr…" His defence was breached by Beatrix's cold, steady glare. He hung his head in defeat. "…Sorry."

"I should think so," the general snipped with a graceful sweep of her radiant locks. "Now get inside and tend to her, you fool."

"Yes ma'am…"

He trudged inside with as much self-pity as he could summon beneath her ruthless scrutiny, then perked up once the door was closed and he beheld Dagger, swamped in heavy blankets and looking more ruffled than sick. She quirked a wry smile as he shuffled toward the bed.

"Beatrix give you an earful?"

"Maybe…"

"Hee hee."

"It wasn't my fault…"

"People actually drink that stuff?"

"Well, yeah. Just not straight and from a tea cup, that's all."

"Oh…"

Zidane sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the carpet with exaggerated qualm. Garnet was not blind to his theatrics and teased the fur on the tip of his tail to shake him out of it. He ignored her, but the bottom lip came out in a childish pout and she giggled, butting his back with her cover-swathed foot.

"Oh, stop sulking. If anyone's entitled to feel sorry for themselves it's me! I haven't vomited for an hour, yet Beatrix still forbids me to get out of bed lest a passing noble sees me vomit all over the carpets outside."

"So… you're restrained for the day?"

"I suppose."

Not wasting another moment, Zidane buried beneath the covers, accidentally elbowing the queen in the ribs and kicking her shin as he squirmed upward to reach the pillows. His very satisfied visage bloomed from the sheets and nestled beside hers, cheeky grin and all.

"Any excuse to sleep…" she sighed, rolling her eyes. "Lazy bones."

"This isn't laziness," he argued, arm snaking around her waist and pulling her awkwardly against him. "Comfy?"

"Wait." She twisted round so she was facing him, scooted down a few inches then buried her nose in the ruffles of his collar –

- and recoiled with a wince. "Zidane…When was the last time you had bath?"

She thought the silence that followed was one of jest, but when she glanced up and found him genuinely rubbing his chin in thought she scooted back.

"Zidane!"

" I dunno! Like… two weeks ago…?"

"Two _weeks_!?"

"Well, unless you count the swim I had in the lake the other day. Oh, and it did rain earlier…"

"That's… that's… Are you _serious_? You literally _don't_ _bathe_?"

"Of course I do; just the parts that matter. Geez, Miss Prissy, how often do _you_ have a bath?"

"Everyday!"

"_Everyday_!?" Zidane trilled incredulously, as if it was the most outrageous claim he'd ever heard. "That's crazy talk!"

Garnet wriggled from his grasp and out of bed, swooping over his prone form with determined menace. "You are taking a bath right now, Zidane Tribal."

His face crumpled into reluctant disbelief. "Whaaatt!? Why?"

"You smell. And you're _filthy_."

"Bit of dirt never hurt anyone…"

Garnet shook her head adamantly. "That doesn't cut it, Zidane. I'm having a bath prepared for you right away." She made for the door, then turned back with a shrewd glare. "And don't even _think_ about trying to escape."

iii.

Not used to having their mistress bathe in the early evening, it took Nell and Briar longer than usual to fill the tub with hot water, and by then Zidane had made three escape attempts. The first was through the window (apparently the thief thought himself impervious to a three hundred foot drop to cobblestones) while Garnet was arranging several scrubbing stones to be delivered to her room. She returned just in time to grab him by the shirt and yank him to the carpet. The second was a rush to the door that was thwarted by the previously charged guards outside, and the third was a desperate, measly effort, in which he hid beneath the bed until Garnet thought he'd disappeared, and in her attempts to search for him elsewhere he would sneak to safety. Unfortunately, he'd underestimated the astuteness of the queen, and before he knew it he was facing a tub of soapy spuds, fragrant oils, and steaming water.

"I think…" he began reluctantly, eyes still glued with horrified fascination on the atrocity before him, "that it's all a bit excessive."

"Nonsense," Garnet dismissed. "You'll learn to love it."

Zidane scratched the back of his head and sighed with obvious resignation. "Well… if it'll make you happy…"

Garnet turned and headed to the door with a slight smile. "And you better wash properly. If you don't I'll send Steiner in to scrub your back and wash behind your ears."

"That's not funny…"

"Hehe."

She closed the door but found herself lingering just outside. She listened to several more resigned sighs, then the rustle of clothes that slid and slipped and thumped softly to the carpet. Then the first, hesitant shift of water could be discerned and a curse.

"Daagggerrr?"

"Yes?"

"The water's hot…"

"Yes, Zidane, baths are generally hot."

"…"

This time there was a more audible splash and a much more audible curse. Only when she heard the sound of vigorous scrubbing (and further use of his colourful vocabulary) did Garnet move to the bed and wait for him to finish.

Outside, Alexandria's summer was in its full throes. The evening promised no relief from the heat as the air turned soupy, while the gods didn't bless the queen with so much as the slightest of breezes, even with the balcony doors thrown wide, and the steam-choked bathroom was a vigorous contributor.

Garnet fanned herself absently, plucking at her dress's collar to part it from her sticky skin. She loved all of Alexandria's seasons, but sometimes she threw a half-hearted prayer to the gods that they withhold the intensity just a little bit.

Despite the muggy air, Garnet went to the balcony and closed the doors after she spotted a pair of fat mosquitoes humming round the room (oh, she hated those insects with a vengeance thanks to Qu's Marsh), deciding she'd rather be hot than covered in pimples. She caught a glance of Alexandria sprawled below, sweating in the palpable heat and free of civilians despite the day barely touching twilight.

A noise pulled her from the closed windows. She turned to see a decidedly fresher looking Zidane emerging from the bathroom, rubbing his hair with a towel and wearing just his trousers and a very grumpy expression.

"Much better," Garnet commented with a satisfied smile. And it was true! Even though he was still wet she could now tell the difference between genuine tan and dirt, not to mention the sudden increase of sunshine-streaks in his hair. Even his tail (adorably fuzzy from a towel-rub, though he'd be less than impressed if she made a comment) was considerably brighter.

"Hmph," Zidane said. "Don't expect me to do that everyday. Back in Lindblum we used to share a bath."

"What!? You… you all got into one bath!?"

"Uh, no. We had this old tin thing out back and boss would fill it with water only once 'cause he said it was a waste to keep refilling it – though we all knew he was just bein' lazy – so we just used the same water."

"That's… a bit gross…" Garnet granted as Zidane turned his back on her and perched on the bed, still towel-drying his hair.

"Yeah, and it was hella unfair 'cause I always had to go last 'cause I was the youngest… and the water wasn't warm to start with so by the time I got there it was freezing and well…" He turned to face her, blue eyes large and beseeching. "Do you know how gross it is to have a bath after Cinna!? He says he washes everyday but like hell he does. You shoulda seen what was floatin' around in that tub by the time I was forced in…"

Garnet waved away any potential descriptions. "I can imagine…"

"No. I don't think you can."

"Hee hee, well maybe not. So now I understand the stems of your disinclination to wash, but you can't use that excuse here!"

Zidane cast her a mischievous look. "Well, I wouldn't mind sharing a bath if it was with you."

He said it without thinking (flirting was as much a part of him as breathing, and he very rarely anticipated a response) so when Garnet sidled up to him on the bed, brushed away a stray water droplet from his arm with the tip of her finger, and said, "I don't think I'd mind either," he could only sit in stunned, uncomprehending disbelief before his brain spewed a mass of muddled thought.

_Shit she's – what is she – women and their mind games – wait, wait – is she actually seriously coming on to me – no no way man she totally wouldn't – _

But she was. And to slam his thoughts firmly into oblivion she confirmed her advance with a kiss so sweet and anxious he hesitated for a whole third of a second before throwing the towel across the room and lowering her to the bed sheets.

iv.

Once Zidane broke away and started a trail of hungry, heady kisses down her throat, Garnet knew there was no way she could ask him to stop, and much to her surprise, she found she didn't want him to. She revelled in that for a second, knowing that she was ready, that this was it, the thing that absolutely everybody raved about, that all the maids gossiped about, that all the nobles got in trouble about.

But it was becoming harder to pursue a coherent train of thought when a pair of hands had free terrain over her body, currently teasing the lace on her bodice. His quick, thieving hands unthreaded it with disconcerting ease and the almost suffocating grip of her corset loosened.

They were still awkwardly positioned at the end of the bed – Garnet's legs were bent over the side and she was rapidly losing feeling in her feet – so Zidane took the time to slide her upward until she lay at the bed's centre, loose hair fanning around her face in a raven halo. As she was shifted upward the sheets snagged her loosened corset and tugged it down, suddenly exposing her chest. Her face caught fire when Zidane noticed and made a beeline, though she realised it no longer stemmed from embarrassment but a mixture of anticipation and awe.

Moment's later, Garnet's dress was unceremoniously thrown aside and she was touched in places that, beforehand, not a soul had laid finger on. And it wasn't just the obvious areas that made her arch in pleasant surprise: the triangle of soft flesh just beneath her hipbone, the back of her legs, the tender indent where her collarbone dipped all had her squirming with dizzying excitement. His hands seemed everywhere at once, crafty but gentle, gliding over plane after plane of skin and finding all the right places, their touch shadowed only by his kiss.

She felt drunk on him, delightfully woozy, as if she'd been twirling in circles, unable to influence the direction of her giddy path. In the few seconds he pulled away to yank off his trousers she was tugging him back with a frantic, yearning need, craving more even if she was still uncertain of what she craved, the nights spent alone on a tear-soaked pillow still fresh in her mind.

He paused for a moment to look at her through heavy-lidded eyes, cheeks flushed and breathing hard. His stare rekindled her timidity but instead of cowering she pulled him back with unmasked longing, suddenly driven more by the thought of finally quenching her loneliness than by lust. He made a dive for her neck this time, licking and nipping as his wet hair and the hot-cold streams of sweat and bath water brought the sticky room into focus. Every puckered scar, muscle and spinal node along his back was gloriously revealed beneath her timorous fingertips. Everything was new to her; the press of naked skin against naked skin was alien but not unpleasant, every sense was overwhelmed by the taste of sweat-salt, his loud breath in her ear chorused by the rustle of blankets, and the intoxicating perfume of bath oils.

No sooner had she settled into these new sensations that another arrived. While his hot kisses drove her to distraction he gently parted her legs and she felt a hardness against her thigh. She wasn't stupid; she knew what it was, but this sudden occurrence had her temporarily subdued anxiety clamouring for attention again.

Feeling her tense beneath him, Zidane stopped for a brief second and whispered in a gravelly, level voice, "Relax."

She made a conscious effort to do just that, which quickly turned reflexive as he held back a moment to stroke her thighs and lower abdomen (setting fire to every nerve ending she possessed) while granting short sweet kisses to the corner of her parted lips. Only when she wriggled with impatience did he finally readjust himself firmly on top of her, taking the majority of his weight with his bent arms.

Distantly, Garnet remembered someone telling her that it was meant to hurt. 'More than the monthly pains', if she was correct in her recollection. She also faintly recalled being in awe of that declaration and slightly intimidated, wondering if she'd be scared on her first time and if it would hurt so much she'd have to stop.

But it didn't hurt. As Zidane slipped into her with a gratified groan and all the air was gasped out of her lungs, she felt neither pain nor pleasure, just detached wonderment at how she could feel so at one with a person and how she would never never _never_ have him leave her again, she couldn't be alone, not now not after -

Only when he picked up a rhythm did the pleasure splinter and shatter any further thought, and all qualms about her modesty were dashed. She hooked one leg around his back and lost herself.

Beads of sweat slid down his back. He was hot against, inside her; her jagged breath was turning into hiccups and chipped moans. She didn't feel the covers stuck to her slick back, nor his hand's firm grip on her behind, nor his still wet hair twined between her fingers, not even the tail that was constricted tight around her upper thigh, only the constant pleasure threatening to shatter every nerve and bone and vein and vessel, faster and harder until his name rolled off the tip of her tongue like a mantra.

She felt his release the same time she heard his shuddering moan. He near collapsed on top of her, panting furiously, but staved off that impulse to offer a scattering of flirtatious kisses on her neck before pulling out and rolling to one side.

She was left breathless and awestruck for a moment, panting at the silk balcony of her bed and feeling exhausted and complete and unafraid.

"Aaaahhh…" came the drawn out sentiment beside her.

Smiling, Garnet rolled onto her side and wedged herself under his arm and into the comfortable niche against his chest. Zidane closed his eyes and grinned lazily.

They lay in the content ambience of their aftermath, Garnet especially wallowing in the unity this common act had brought forth, in the love that left her whole. She was about to comment on how the windows were steamed up when she noted his slack expression, open mouth and snoring. A moment's irritation was replaced by smiling disbelief. How could someone fall asleep so quickly? Yet she didn't feel the need to protest as tiredness made quick work of the queen, too.

For the first time in years, Garnet's sleep was sound and dreamless.


	6. Underhanded Caution

Thanks again for all the reeeviiiewwss! I know, I know, I am TERRIBLE at replying, so apologies! But seriously, they make my day when I find one in my inbox. They're like teaspoons of christmas. And as you can see, Foundations has been bumped up to an M. Onward!

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**Chapter Five  
**. underhanded caution .

i.

The problem with Zidane's tail, Garnet decided, was in its strength. Contrary to its wiry appearance, it could manipulate objects and sustain Zidane's weight with minimal effort; it was firm and muscular beneath one's touch so that it could be likened neither to a cat's nor monkey's; it was unique. And while she didn't doubt there were benefits of having an added dexterous limb from Zidane's perspective, it was momentarily proving itself to be rather tiresome from hers.

Garnet had been quite disorientated when she'd woken the morning after their first night together. A soft tickling on her leg had rudely jerked her from slumber (the queen was a very light sleeper) and she had batted at it in annoyance, blearily moaning, "Ge'off Mene…"

The moogle was prone to roaming the bed in search of the warmest, softest part of the feather mattress, and would often wake Garnet in the process. She'd even found him asleep in the bountiful thicket of her hair one morning (and had it plaited back ever since) but usually when she scolded the moogle he would make a clipping comment then fall back to sleep beneath the covers.

But Mene seemed to be in an impish mood this morning.

Garnet slapped the moogle, uncaring if he went off in a strop, yet the brush refused to yield. She was about to give Mene a good hard pinch when the contact suddenly became painful and she bolted upright in bed.

It was only then that she spotted Zidane sprawled on his front and apparently fast asleep, and noted her nakedness along with his, the latter of which was concealed beneath the sheets, and the night's activities came rushing back in a glorious avalanche, almost making her blush.

The tickling on her leg irked her once more and, bemused, she lifted the covers and immediately spotted the trouble. Zidane's tail had somehow wrapped itself twice about her leg and was gently constricting. It didn't hurt as such, but the pressure was enough to notice. Zidane seemed oblivious.

More amused than annoyed now, and not giving it much thought, Garnet went to pry the tail off. She caught the tip between her fingers and pulled gently, coaxing it away. Unfortunately, it didn't prove so easy. The moment the limb felt itself being tugged it promptly constricted tighter and no matter how much Garnet pulled and prodded it refused to budge.

Eventually, the queen gave up that tactic and pouted down at the snoring thief. Should she wake him? In her humble opinion the boy slept far too much anyway. But then again… perhaps he was particularly tired from last night's… exercise? Not to mention the queen hadn't clue what time it was; perhaps it was still early?

No. She wouldn't wake him. And neither would a tail defeat her.

This time Garnet went for the root of the problem and ran her fingers along the base of Zidane's tail hoping to invoke a twitch large enough to allow an escape. Unfortunately, the tail didn't move and all she got from Zidane was a surprisingly sensuous moan. Deeming that tactic a failure too, Garnet pinched the end as hard as she dared. The tail constricted even tighter, actually inflicting a bit of pain this time, and refused to let up until Garnet relaxed.

_Gods, he's got me prisoner!_

And that thought only became a worry when she heard the tramp of footsteps outside the door.

_Thud-thud-thud._ "Your majesty?"

_Beatrix_!

_Thud-thud-thud_

Garnet contemplated her situation in a panic, glancing round as if searching for a scapegoat or, at the very least, an escape in general.

"Perhaps she can't hear you," a second voice suggested, a voice which belonged – much to Garnet's horror – to Steiner. "Allow me."

**THUD-THUD-THUD**

"Quiet, you oaf! Do you want to frighten her awake!?"

Zidane snorted in his sleep and - much to Garnet's disbelief - rolled onto his side, tail dragging her into a position that was all the more uncompromising considering her nakedness.

She was running out of time. While furiously trying to untangle her leg from his tail, she beseeched, "D-don't come in! I'm already up!"

She'd hoped this lie would stave off any intrusion.

She was wrong.

Garnet shrieked as Steiner marched through the door, followed by Beatrix. She yanked the sheets into a knotted mess as she sought to cover her dignity, unfortunately revealing Zidane in the process and her one leg still accosted by his tail.

In any other situation it might have been very amusing to watch every ounce of colour drain from Steiner's face faster than paint from a wet canvas, but at that moment Garnet would have found the contents of a chocobo slaughterhouse more amusing.

"YaaaAAAH!" Steiner howled before turning twice in a bumbling circle and shooting toward the door, arms waving wildly in the air.

His yell awoke Zidane, who bolted upright and blearily surveyed his surroundings with a baffled, "E-eh… wh-what the fuck…?"

Beatrix slammed the door behind Steiner's fleeing form in an attempt to stop the guards from seeing, her expression uncharacteristically lost.

"I said _don't_ come in!" Garnet wailed uselessly.

Beatrix bowed. "M-my apologies, I thought… we thought…"

"Out! Get out get out GET OUT!"

ii.

"Good mornnnninggg…"

Garnet held her forehead with a trembling hand. "Is it?"

Zidane yawned and stretched the length of his body, apparently unconcerned by his nudity as he kicked back what little sheets still covered him. Still unused to seeing a naked man, Garnet averted her eyes and focussed on Zidane's very smug and satisfied expression instead.

"Aaaah, I feel so good this morning! I could sleep all day…" he drawled cheerfully. "Though my morning wood has gone. Seein' Rusty's face the moment you wake up aint good for a man's sexual drive, I tell ya. Although his expression was priceless, ehehe."

She slapped his bare chest with a light scold. "It's not funny, Zidane."

"Why were they so surprised? Didn't they expect us to do it?"

"Of course they did – well, I don't know about Steiner. Maybe they just didn't think."

"Mmm…" Zidane agreed, then leaned across to lazily paw Garnet's breast.

"Oh get off, you," she snapped half-heartedly. "I've got to get up! And for the love of Shiva, control your bloody tail!"

Zidane glanced at his furry appendage, offering a nonchalant excuse. "Yeah, it does that sometimes. Used to piss Blank off a treat." He paused, then hurriedly amended, "We shared a bunk. Like, not a bed, just 'cause there weren't enough beds in the hideout and so, like… We had separate covers and stuff so it wasn't, y'know, weird or anything…"

His babbling trailed off and the tail's grip loosened and unwound, freeing Garnet's thigh. Very aware of Zidane's eyes on her, Garnet found her nightdress and pulled it on, ignoring his drawled protests as her body disappeared beneath the silk. When she'd listened long enough to ensure Steiner wasn't lingering (or at least passed out) on the other side of the door, she gingerly poked her head outside and asked the guards to seek her maids.

"You better get up," she said when she closed the door again. "I don't really want Nell and Briar seeing you like that."

He rolled himself in the covers (something which reminded her very much of a certain moogle) and sighed contently, his good mood evident. Garnet perched beside him and ran a hand through his blonde hair.

"Did it hurt?" he asked suddenly.

She shook her head. "No. I'm glad it was with you."

He grinned. "Damn straight." His expression sobered a little. "So ah… are you gonna take something now?"

"What do you mean?"

"Y'know… so you don't get… knocked up."

Garnet stiffened. Didn't he understand the way things worked? She was a queen and queens needed heirs as soon as possible. She couldn't take something to prevent that natural process, if the court ever got wind of it…

_If the court ever got wind of me taking a lover in _general, she thought grimly, wishing she could shake off the subject or at least have Ifrit bury it in the deepest, darkest chamber of hell.

But in the end, she just decided to lie. Or at least suspend the truth a little longer – something she'd been doing a lot lately. "Sure. I'll go and see Doctor Tot about it."

Zidane grinned. "Great. So ah… do I have to get up now?"

Garnet smiled. "Oh, alright, stay in bed, you lazy thing. Just don't reveal yourself when Briar and Nell come in. You'll give the poor girls heart attacks."

"The sight of me _is_ heart-stopping," he solemnly acquiesced.

Garnet crossed the room and threw open the balcony doors, letting the fresh, summer morning replenish the airless chamber. The sun had yet to peak the rooftops of Alexandria and the pleasant tolling of bells declared the morning underway. Yet these factors were obviously unimportant to Zidane, who fell back to sleep even before she'd finished dressing.

Those that noticed the queen's curiously satisfied smile that day chose not to comment.

iii.

As the weeks wore on, Garnet assumed the lewd side of Zidane's personality would eventually settle into something more controllable. But alas, it seemed this trait was not only a permanent fixture, but also one that steadily increased with every passing day. She'd wondered previously if his lust for her had stemmed from wanting something he assumed he could never have (an alluring prize in the eye of a thief), and his lust would dim once he had obtained her. But if anything, it increased tenfold, and seemed to be as unrestrained as it was outrageous.

She was also unfortunately learning that, well, she didn't actually mind. There were certain lines she would draw when it came to location, of course, for a queen simply couldn't be found gallivanting here, there and everywhere. If someone saw them her reputation would be forever tarnished.

She remembered the days when all it would take was a clipping scold to ward him off, and knowing what she knew now, it was remarkable he had boasted such restraint. Contrary to her original belief, knowing she was all his drove him wild.

Nowadays, she had a very hard time battling him off.

"Zidannneee, don't!"

"Why?"

"You _know_ why!"

"Enlighten me."

He was such a sneaky monkey, she decided, for catching her alone. Beatrix often accompanied her from meeting to meeting, or at the very least Briar and Nell and a small guard force, so he must have been tracking her for some time to find her unsupervised like this.

The tin locker made a resounding bang that had her eyes darting to the doorway. She was trying with all her might (well, perhaps not _all_ her might) to push him away, but his hand had already found a way through the layers of her skirt and his lips seemed quite attached to her neck.

"Zidane, anyone could walk in at any moment, I am not doing this here with you, now," she insisted as adamantly as possible.

"Everyone's distracted," he whispered huskily in her ear. "No one will walk in…"

She giggled as his tongue whispered down her neck. "Really, d-don't! I'm a queen not a… not… ah… mm… mmmm oh… _oh_…"

After a moment, he stopped what he was doing to audaciously inquire, "Hmm? What was that you were saying?"

She blinked up at him stupidly, quite short of breath, and realised she'd entirely forgotten. He grinned then hoisted her against the lockers, hitching her skirt up and guiding her legs around his waist, then severed her thoughts with a passionate kiss. It was only when she heard the sound of footsteps did she remember the grounds behind her protest.

"Stop, stop," she hissed under her breath, and squirmed from his grip so her feet were touching the floor again. "You idiot, now what are we going –"

The door to the Pluto Knights' locker room was thrown open and Weimer and Blutzen marched in with sorrowful expressions, currently suffering Steiner's rebuke.

"- barracks are not to be used for inappropriate gallivanting with the knights. Keep your bloody personal affairs wherever it is you disappear to while off-duty but not in plain view of – of – of…" Steiner's furious scolding stuttered to a halt when all three knights lay eyes on the pair curiously inhabiting their station. The lesser knights saluted, and Steiner did likewise after a long, distrustful glare in Zidane's direction.

"Your majesty," he greeted, ignoring the grinning (yet curiously disappointed looking) thief. "Is there something I may assist you with?"

"Ah… ah… yes, actually, there is, um, something perhaps that you and your knights may… uh… help me with," she gushed, smoothing the rumples in her velvet gown. "I was just um… looking for a…a…"

"A sword," Zidane finished. "A very large, hard sword."

Garnet could've hit him. Instead, she agreed, "Yes… Yes, I'm here to inspect the weaponry, Captain Steiner."

Zidane sniggered.

"Oh," Steiner said, more than a little baffled. "Well, if that is your wish, your majesty, though I personally check them every morning."

Zidane sniggered again and this time Garnet elbowed him in the stomach. "Actually, I'm due to oversee the festival preparations. Zidane, kindly do the honours, would you?"

The thief sent her look that could have wilted flowers, but considering he was undoubtedly conjuring a plan to evade this sudden responsibility, she didn't pay it much heed.

Garnet smiled as she floated to the door, and the knights saluted. She stopped just before leaving though, long enough to slyly add, "Oh, and if there's any amour that needs polishing, Zidane would be more than happy to do that too."

This time, Steiner cracked a wicked grin before saluting, and Garnet departed feeling quite pleased with her deviousness.

iv.

It had taken weeks of planning and days of preparation, but in the end, it was worth the effort. Firon's Lake was the smallest of Alexandria's water facets; a tributary to the main lake at the back of the castle; it opened out to the west of the town. Technically, it wasn't so much a lake as it was a wide section of the main canal that encircled Alexandria, but it had been blockaded on both ends so the current wouldn't upset the boats packing its surface.

The Harvest Festival dated back to when Alexandria was just a farming town, though back then it wasn't technically a festival or celebration. It was simply a date that marked when the crops were ready to be harvested, and to give offerings to the gods as thanks. But now it was just an excuse to party, and had become arguably the biggest annual event in Alexandria.

And the planning of such a huge event was given solely to one person.

"You've done well, your majesty," Beatrix said. "The lake looks positively otherworldly."

Garnet scanned her surroundings sceptically. The lake was lined with trees on one side, whose branches were the foundations of countless paper lanterns, all lit from within by a thousand candles; they glowed like faeries between the leaves. The houses that leaned over the waterfront were covered in flags and banners, and all along the sides of the lake were tables stacked with seasonal food and drink. The lake itself cradled at least one hundred ornate canal boats, all of different design and each holding various members of nobility, friends and families, drifting lazily on the inky water licked red and silver by the twin moons. It seemed the entire population of Alexandria had turned out too, and were packing the riverside drinking, singing and feasting.

"I hope I did alright," Garnet worried. "I know this means a lot to the people of Alexandria."

"You did fine," Beatrix reassured.

Garnet smiled gratefully at the general, who looked somewhat otherworldly herself in a golden gown that trickled down her curves like honey. Save The Queen was tied to her side with a ribbon, though she had little inclination to use it tonight.

Garnet hesitated on the threshold of the lake, where her royal boat was rigged and waiting.

"Does something trouble you, my lady?"

"N-no…no… Not really, I suppose." Garnet touched her collarbone anxiously, eyes scanning the lake.

"He's with Tantalus," Beatrix read her thoughts, gesturing to a boat. Even this far across the lake, Garnet could see it rocking and hear bawdy singing. She squinted. It was almost impossible to recognise anyone for it was tradition that those attending the Harvest Festival wear masks, a custom that always left her a trifle uneasy, but now Beatrix had pointed out the boat she recognised Zidane by his mess of blonde hair amid the squeeze of his Tantalus brothers.

Again, Garnet ran a nervous hand cross her throat.

"I believe everyone's waiting on you, your majesty," Beatrix politely encouraged. "Would you like me to join you?"

"No – thank you. Zidane said he'd come with me. I'm sure he'll be around."

Beatrix saluted. She wore no mask so to keep her identity obvious, hopefully deterring any potential troublemakers from the queen (though the archers dotting the lake's edge were a fine deterrent too).

Garnet stepped onto the boat with Beatrix's aid, and donned her own mask, a work of art trimmed with peacock feathers and emeralds, perfectly complimenting her sea-green gown. She sat at the far end upon a scattering of cushions beneath a balcony of gauzy silk. The boat was pushed away from the shore, and as soon as the boatman guided her among the others, the music started up and a cheer went through the crowd.

The moons shone bright in the velvet sky, turning the lake's surface into an ethereal masterpiece. The night was breezeless and hot, but not unpleasantly so, yet Garnet felt nervous beads of sweat forming along her brow.

_It's not a big deal,_ she told herself calmly. _Well, maybe it is a big deal, but they would have found out eventually. Why delay it for another day? Besides, the rumours are rife; many of them already have an inkling… What's the worst that could come of it?_

"Good harvest, your majesty!" a member of court called out the customary greeting as his barge passed by, laden down with his two children and wife.

She smiled. "Good harvest, Lord Barnian."

She greeted a few more of the nobility likewise as they drifted by, a painted smile on her face, and she calmly tolerated the awed stares of their children as they caught a glimpse of their queen. She heard a few shouts from the shoreline, and when she waved to the people they roared in good cheer, evoking from her a genuine chuckle.

She drifted on alone, for a while.

A murmuring of disapproval from passing nobles heralded the approach of far less noble company, even before the general ruckus could be discerned above the music. Garnet edged forward expectantly, folding her arms atop the boat's gilded side.

Tantalus' boat rocked into view. Baku was sprawled on the cushions beneath the silk shelter, ahead of Cinna and Marcus. Seated further along was Blank and, of course, Zidane, whose face was partially obscured by a blue mask trimmed with lace and ribbon. It was lavish enough to be called effeminate, but so gaudy and theatrical it could only belong to Zidane. She called for the boatman to slow their travel, and the boatman of Baku's boat did likewise.

"Good harvest, Baku," Garnet greeted (for it was custom to greet the highest ranking on board first). "How do you fair?"

"Well enough, I suppose," the thief allowed, swirling a brown bottle of ale. "Aint likin' this mask shit too much, though."

"I thought you'd be accustomed to wearing masks, what with being bandits?"

"Only thieves who don't have faith in their abilities wear masks," Marcus said. "We don't never get caught, so we don't need to wear 'em. Superfluous assets to people as skilled as us, right?"

Garnet smiled at this logic. "Well, then allow me take another superfluous asset off your hands." She looked pointedly at Zidane, who feigned hurt.

"Hey, I'll have you know I'm the foundations of this here band!"

"In your dreams," Blank snorted. He looked at Garnet then added with an ominous air, "He's all yours."

Garnet scooted aside as Zidane staggered to his feet then jumped across the two boats like a monkey between tree branches. The boat rocked so much she thought the poor boatman was going to fall into the lake, and the surrounding noblemen who witnessed Zidane breeching the queen's boat gasped.

"Show off," Garnet teased.

"Always. Heeeyy, there's no wine on this boat! Yo, Blank! Toss us a bottle, would ya?"

Tantalus' boat was already drifting some way off, and Garnet nearly screamed as Blank lobbed a bottle across the space (a potentially fatal move when under the eye of numerous archers waiting to shoot any threat). She squeezed her eyes shut instead, ready for the impact, but Zidane caught it with indifferent ease then yanked the cork out with his teeth.

"Wine, my lady?"

"Ah, no. We don't have any glasses and I can't drink from the bottle while in the presence of so many important people."

Zidane shrugged. "More for me."

"Please don't get drunk."

"Why? Everyone's getting drunk! Look around!"

"I know. But people will be watching… us. You in particular."

Zidane glanced round. "Me? Why?"

_Oh, Zidane, can't you understand?_ "Well, this is the first time we've been seen together."

"Eh? People have seen us together all the time... Oh, you mean _important_ people?"

"Yes."

"I don't care what they think," Zidane declared, the importance of such an event clearly evading him as he threw himself onto the cushions. "Come give us a hug. I haven't seen you all day."

She wormed her way next to him but stayed sitting up, knowing disappearing from view beneath the sides of the boat could look quite suspicious to those watching – and she made no mistake, there were people watching. Nobles and common folk alike were staring with notable interest at the masked vagabond claiming the exclusive place in the queen's royal boat. Was this finally confirming the tirade of rumours that had been eagerly exchanged in taverns, alleys and courtrooms for weeks?

"You look so sexy," Zidane broke into her anxiety, eyes lazily regarding her dress, no doubt more interested in the way it accentuated her curves than the embroidery and pattern.

She batted him playfully, but he grabbed her wrist and landed a lingering, sensuous kiss on her neck.

_So much for breaking the news gently, _Garnet mused, trying hard to ignore the stares from passing nobility.

But just to make sure there was no lingering doubt in their minds, Garnet returned his kiss with her own much more queenly one, and was rewarded with a few tipsy advances on his behalf. Before they got too sensuous, she distracted him with wine and then goaded him into telling her a story (sometimes, she reckoned, Zidane was not so overly different to Kuja in the fact he did like to hear the sound of his own voice).

For a while her surroundings and the staring nobles and festive music dulled as she lost herself to his charismatic story telling, the gentle rocking of the boat and Zidane's closeness lulling her into a pleasant stupor.

But alas, respites were not a lasting thing for queens.

"Good harvest, cousin."

"Good harvest, Venira," she greeted the woman as a barge approached, who happened to be her first cousin once removed (who she called 'aunt' for the sake of practicality), and Dimitri's mother. The older woman's eyes smouldered with suspicion and cool anger. Garnet let her gaze wander quickly to Dimitri.

"Good harvest, Dimi. How are you enjoying the festival?"

Her cousin lifted his gold and black mask for courtesy's sake, but perhaps to reveal the disapproving and somewhat concerned look in his eye as well. It was an expression worth a thousand words; Garnet inwardly cringed.

However, he maintained a pleasant disposition. "You've done a wonderful job, Garnet. The decorations are delightful and the atmosphere is electric." He turned his gaze to Zidane, who returned it half-interestedly over a bottle of wine.

When an expectant silence unravelled itself, Garnet promptly introduced, "Ah, oh… Aunt Venira, this is my… my friend, Zidane Tribal."

"So I've heard," the woman said. Her lilac mask accentuated her frosty stare. "How do you do, Master Tribal?"

"Uh…" Zidane lowered the bottle, apparently caught off guard by being addressed directly. His eyes flicked toward Garnet for a moment, possibly seeking approval, before he answered, "Yeah. Pretty drunk. And yourself?"

"I fair not so well, actually," Venira admitted. "Tell me, Master Tribal, are you one and the same as the world renowned hero who allegedly saved us from doom by the hands of a madman?"

Zidane shifted uncomfortably. "Uh… yeah...."

Venira returned her gaze to Garnet. "You hold famous company, your majesty. I see you've made some… interesting acquaintances since we last saw each other, some years ago."

Garnet's heart was thunder in her chest. She was walking territory as dangerous as it was unavoidable, like a soldier running toward the front line of an opposing army. "Yes, aunt."

"Funny, though," Venira went on with a casual glance across the lake. "I thought this particular Harvest Festival was meant to mark a much grander occasion. But I understand that Her Majesty must be so busy nowadays, it must be easy to have such an event slip one's mind…"

"I haven't forgotten, Aunt Venira," Garnet said, staring at her hands with grim resignation. "But there may be some… alterations to our original plans."

Dimitri abruptly found the water conveniently fascinating, while Venira's gaze became sharp. "What do you –"

"But this is neither the place nor time to discuss such a matter," Garnet said, her simmering temper invoked by the sudden surge of guilt beneath Zidane's baffled stare. "Tomorrow, if you will kindly fit a meeting into your schedule...?"

Venira considered her for a moment, then said, "Of course, your majesty. Nothing would please me more. Good harvest to you." She turned a vehement glare toward Zidane, who blinked in surprise. "And to you, Master Tribal."

"Ah… thanks."

Their boat faded into the phalanx of drifting vessels and Garnet near collapsed onto the cushions with relief.

"Geez, how long has that pole been shoved up her ass?" Zidane snorted. "What a frigid bitch. What was her problem, anyway?"

Garnet shied away from the topic, holding her arms out to him instead. "Oh, stupid political things. You wouldn't understand."

Zidane shrank back from her embrace. "I wouldn't understand? What's that supposed to mean? Just because I haven't had the same upbringing as you doesn't mean I'm stupid."

"No, no, I know that," Garnet amended. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I just… don't want to bore you with politics on a night like this. Finish your story, would you?"

Zidane blinked, then cracked a grin and resumed his narration with flourish, painfully oblivious to her amateur – yet successful – attempt to divert the subject.

_Poor Zidane,_ Garnet thought. _Sometimes he's just too trusting for his own good. But what does that say about me? That I'm cajoling him along, deceiving him? _She glanced nervously out to the lake, unconsciously scanning for Dimi. _No. I'm doing this for his own good. _Our_ good. It will all be fine tomorrow. I'll make this work – whatever the cost may be._

* * *

News! I'm moving out and going to uni. This probably means I wont have much time for… well, anything! I could be wrong, but we'll just have to see. Basically, updates will probably be further apart. Don't get me wrong, I will continue, absolutely, but I wont have much free time on my hands to actually write (or draw) anymore. Please be patient and please don't hassle me over PM cuz it's a massive change so I'll probably be stressy, haha. Anyways, hope y'all enjoyed this chapter; I promise I'll update as soon as the next chapter is written! Ciao.


	7. Never Lie

Horray! I live! Almost. In-between freshers week, catching fresher's flu, socialising and 9-5 lectures (seriously, I'm not kidding this is the most work I've ever done in my life) I have somehow scrounged time to write. Review pllleeeasssseeee, and I'll give you the beans and pasta in my fridge. THAT IS ALL I OWN.

Enjoy**!**

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**Chapter Six  
**Never Lie

i.

_The news has spread,_ Garnet mused, _and drawn a crowd. I don't remember allowing all these people inside the courtroom._

It was unnerving to have nobility lingering in tense circles around her meeting chamber. There was nowhere to sit aside from the throne that Garnet currently occupied, which was elevated above the marble floor by a set of steps. The nobility were drawn to the argument like flies on honey, buzzing and buzzing in their little factions; their whispers were too low to follow but their mannerisms betrayed their sentiments anyway. There was animosity, wariness and apprehension hanging in clouds so thick Garnet thought she might suffocate even before she opened her mouth to speak. She was glad to have Beatrix at her right hand, her sharp, calm mind more comfort than her casually evident sword, this time.

Garnet thought of sending the nobility away. Half of those prying, conniving vultures were only here to watch the inevitable argument anyway, eager to snatch any potential profit from whatever conclusion the unfolding events produced. For a moment, Garnet hated them more than she'd ever hated anyone, and a stirring of dark enmity writhed in her gut. Her mind itched to extend her power and get rid of them, so she could live as she pleased without ignorant bigots challenging her command.

But she stifled the urge. Dismissing them would only instigate rumours and fan the flames of hostility. She'd known this day would come the moment she threw her crown to the floor and leaped into Zidane's arms; it had only been a matter of time.

_I've got Beatrix,_ Garnet reassured herself. _And I am queen. In the end, no one can usurp my authority. There is no alternative._

A pair of servants opened the double doors at the opposite end of the low-ceilinged hall, and Venira and Dimitri entered, greeted by a thrum of indiscernible comments. Dimitri looked uncomfortable and displeased, but whether it was from the commotion his mother was about to cause or by Garnet's unannounced decision, she was unsure.

Venira headed straight for the queen then stopped at the bottom of the steps and curtsied to the floor. Her face was a cold, stotic mask. The room went quiet.

"Your Majesty."

"Greetings, aunt. Dimi."

Dimitri bowed. His eyes were hard and Garnet felt her heart sink. She loved her cousin very much; they had played together as children and had often been schooled together. She'd hoped the situation wouldn't effect their friendship, but it already seemed too late for such concerns.

"Your majesty said there were to be some changes to the arrangement made by myself and your mother involving your engagement to my son," Venira prompted.

"Yes…" Garnet began hesitantly, her heart beating fast as she centred her thoughts. "There are… to be some changes. Nine years ago Mother arranged for me to marry Dimitri when I turned eighteen."

"Your mother specifically requested it be so," Venira said, though it sounded more like a reminder – even a threat, if her tone had differed. And then just to add insult to injury: "Like all good queens, she was well aware of the importance of keeping the royal line untainted."

There were a few solemn nods from the surrounding nobles.

"Yes… Well, there is technically no law that specifically states for me to marry someone of noble blood."

Venia smiled sweetly. "No, there isn't. But such a matter is inconsequential considering your majesty will be wedding Dimitri anyway."

Garnet almost flinched at her aunt's audacity for building an argument even before Garnet had dismissed the engagement. There was no pussyfooting around the subject now.

"No, Venira, I'm afraid I wont be marrying Dimitri anymore. I'm calling the engagement off."

There was general amalgamation of gasps, shocked splutters and mumbles. Some didn't look surprised, two of those being Dimitri and Venira, though the lattermost did a good job of looking unfazed.

"Your majesty," Venira said when the inevitable ruckus had died down, "with greatest respect, your mother promised Dimitri would wed you. It is contracted and approved by various members of the good nobility, including Regent Cid –"

"My mother is dead," Garnet stated, feeling her irritation begin to spit and boil again. "I overrule her decision. The contract is null."

"You can't just throw something like that away!" Dimitri protested.

"I can," Garnet said, casting him an apologetic look. "And I have. I'm sorry Dimitri…"

"But you can't!"

"Do not oppose me," she half-pleaded, not wanting to humiliate her cousin further. "Forget the engagement existed."

Another muted outcry rippled through the nobles. Beatrix scanned the faces with hawk-like precision, noting those who seemed indifferent and those who were particularly displeased. Gods knew this wasn't going to end well.

"Your majesty," one member of the court piped up. "May I speak?"

"You may."

"Dimitri is duke of one of Alexandria's largest provinces. It only makes sense for you to be wedded to him. It's what the people would want."

_I don't care what they want!_ "I'm well aware of the benefits of marrying Dimitri. But I'm afraid it just isn't an option anymore. Nothing you say will change my mind."

"Dimitri deserves to be prince consort!" another noble insisted. "He's worked harder than any other duke in the kingdom; the gods would approve such an alliance."

Garnet shrugged. "We are already allies. I'm glad the people love Dimitri, but he doesn't need to be prince consort as well."

"Then if not Dimitri," a noble reasoned, "would you consider marrying someone of Treno? A duke from one of Lindblum's provinces? Such an alliance would benefit Alexandria in the future…"

"No," Garnet shook her head. "I'm sorry."

"Then who do you have in mind?"

"It's that boy, isn't it?" Venira intercepted. "Zidane Tribal."

Another murmur rose and fell like a tide. Garnet resisted the urge to shift uncomfortably beneath their ridicule. She glanced at Beatrix, who inclined her head imperceptibly, urging her forward.

"Yes," Garnet admitted. "I will most probably marry him."

This time the outcry was much more audible. Beatrix's hand twitched closer to her sword but none of the nobles' motives were physically aggressive. They seemed more startled than anything.

"This is a most grievous insult," Venira snapped. "Your hand was promised to Dimitri, not some low-born actor!"

"Mind how you speak," Garnet countered frostily. "Besides, he's much more than that, and you know it."

"He saved our planet," one noble said, "protecting her majesty all the while. We owe him our lives."

"He has the hearts of the lower classes," someone added, "that is a factor not to be undervalued."

"It is not proper for the queen of Alexandria to marry outside the royal line!" another argued. "We can't have some peasant ruling over the upper classes of Alexandria!"

"Only Dimitri should be allowed to marry her majesty – it was what was promised years ago anyway!"

"Who is this Zidane? We know nothing about him! I for one wont be ruled by some miscreant who acts as a king!"

"I am still ruler here," Garnet barked above the opposition. "Not him. It would be no different if I married Dimitri."

"Dimitri is _entitled_ to be prince consort," a noble countered hotly. "He would aid the kingdom."

"So would Zidane Tribal," another argued. "He has respectable links in Lindblum and Burmecia; his mere presence would sway an argument in our favour."

"I hear he's related to Lord King," someone added. "Meaning his influence extends to the nobility of Treno, too."

Garnet visibly cringed at the mention of Kuja's alias, wondering how Zidane had somehow been linked back to him so quickly. That alone was dangerous territory; the fact that something so accurate had been spread was worrying in itself. Despite this, she was glad Kuja's faux reputation had benefited Zidane's future, though she would do nothing to confirm the rumours in case 'Lord King's' identity was ever truly revealed.

"This is outrageous!" Dimitri declared, throwing up his hands. "Don't I have a say in this? I was brought up believing I was to be prince consort of Alexandria!"

"If Queen Brahne was still here, you would be," Venira snipped.

"But she isn't," Garnet cut in. "Zidane is good and… smart. But that is largely irreverent considering he wont influence my decisions anyway."

"You say that now," a noble muttered. "While I don't doubt Zidane Tribal's strength, it would be far more beneficial for all us if you married someone of political experience. Dimitri has proved himself time and time again that he is worthy to lead the people of Alexandria, and that he is an upstanding gentlemen to boot."

"You wouldn't be here at all if it wasn't for Zidane!" Garnet argued fervently. "Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

"Considering the throne," Dimitri said, "no. It doesn't change the fact that he's common born. It would taint the royal line."

"It matters not what you think," Garnet snapped petulantly. "I'm not marrying you."

Venira bristled and the courtroom fell into uncomfortable silence, the argument rounding in on itself. Then Garnet's aunt sneered, tilting her head to consider the queen with a haughty glare.

"Well, you can't do anymore harm than you've already done; the royal line is tainted by your very presence."

Garnet blinked, startled. "What?"

"Don't play games. You're not the real Garnet. She died thirteen years ago."

Garnet felt her stomach plummet as the courtroom fell into stunned silence.

"You were a nobody they found washed up after a storm. You looked so much like Brahne's dead daughter she merely pretended you were her and elevated you to the rank of princess."

The nobility stared up at their queen in surprise.

"What?"

"That can't be true…"

"Surely we would have known!"

"I don't believe it…"

The shocked mutterings rose to a crescendo as Garnet bit her lip. It was true that Venira and her mother had been close, so it wasn't entirely surprising she'd been informed of the truth behind Garnet's heritage. It wasn't even that Garnet's true identity was a secret; Brahne and Garnet's father simply decided it was best not to flaunt it. Apparently Brahne had trust Venira enough to confide in her.

_Mother never was a very good judge of character…_

"It is true," Garnet admitted, "that I am not… the biological daughter of Queen Brahne. But!" she shouted when the ruckus started again. "I am lawfully adopted and therefore hold every right to this throne, before any of you even think to question its legitimacy."

"But you're not _blood_," Venira reinforced, more at the nobles than Garnet. "Dimitri on the other hand –"

"Stop right there," Garnet demanded, rising from the throne. "You will not finish that sentence. No matter my heritage _I am still queen_. I will not marry your son, yet I promise you my decision will not affect the throne or Alexandria in any way. Your objections are unfounded and selfish. Dimitri is a fine duke and you will accept it as it is. There is nothing more to discuss; this meeting is over!"

The nobility lingered for a few moments, uneasily exchanging glances. The scale was even and ready to tip in either direction: favourable or unfavourably. For an awful moment it looked like they might mutiny altogether, but then Venira turned sharply on her heel and marched from the room without a perfunctory curtsey or farewell. Then the first noble pulled away, and then the second, and the pack of vultures fled the room in a cloud of disapproval and indifference alike. Only Dimitri remained, and he stared up at Garnet with eyes clouded by hurt.

"May I speak with you in private?"

Garnet didn't feel like speaking to anyone, but considering the insult she'd inflicted she thought he deserved the chance to voice his opinions, at the very least.

Wearily, she waved Beatrix away then sank to the throne.

ii.

It was a little past the eleventh bell when Zidane grudgingly awoke. It was still strange opening his eyes to the extravagant luxury of Dagger's bedroom, the silk balcony above and the soft, clean sheets beneath him. Afterall, he'd spent a majority of his years considering a straw mattress an extravagance and pillows the assets of noblemen. Not that he was complaining about his sudden elevation in status, but it was taking some getting used to.

With a yawn, Zidane rolled over and lazily slung an arm over Dagger, then grinned when she shuffled in an irritated fashion. Even though he could woo her into doing pretty much whatever he wanted whenever he wanted (who could resist a face like his?) she still didn't like being cajoled into having sex right after she'd woken up. He couldn't understand why, because in his opinion morning sex was the best kind of sex, but he liked to tease her until she gave in, which she _always_ did. Naturally.

He shuffled closer to her sleeping form and ran a hand through her hair.

"K-kupo…?"

Zidane chuckled. "Hehe… I didn't know you were into role-playing, baby…"

"Ku…po…?"

Zidane's hand travelled lower but, strangely, met only air, which was funny because last he time he checked Dagger definitely had a body –

Zidane's eyes snapped open and came face to face with a very angry looking moogle.

"GET OUT OF MY BED, KUPO!"

"Aaaaarrgggg!" Zidane responded, scooting backward and tumbling over the side of the bed in a tangle of sheets.

"Aaaah," the moogle whined, "it's collldd! Gimmie back my sheets, kupo!"

Wrestling in a net of satin, Zidane managed to sit up and stare with a mixture of puzzlement and anger over the side of the mattress. "What the hell are you doing in my bed!?"

"_Your_ bed!?" the moogle shrieked, jumping up and down on a pillow. "This is my bed! My bed! _My_ bed!"

"Mene?" Zidane recognised.

"Yes it's me, stupid! Now gimmie back the covers I'm ccooollddd…"

Grudgingly, Zidane stood up and threw the sheets over the moogle, who then pattered in a circle until he found a comfortable nesting spot, then rolled up in the covers and went to go to sleep.

"Hey!" Zidane impeded. "You… you can't sleep there!"

No response.

"Mene… this is my bed…"

"No… it's the girl's bed, actually," came the tart retort. "But she lets me sleep here so it's my bed too, kupo."

"What?"

"I sleep this side, she sleeps that side."

Zidane scratched the back of his head. "Hmph. Well, you better break the habit 'cause I sleep there now. Go find a dog basket or something."

"_You_ go find a dog basket. I'm sleeping here. Goodnight, kupo."

"It's not night time…"

But the moogle wasn't listening, and deeming his removal attempts a failure, Zidane pulled on his clothes and walked out the door, intent on finding Dagger and having a little chat about her choice of sleeping partners.

Walking down the corridors, Zidane received some pretty odd stares from passers-by. He was getting that a lot lately and, quite frankly, he was tiring of it. At first he'd thought it was because he didn't dress like a pansy noble, then he wondered if it was because of his unexpected fame, but the looks seemed to persist whatever the reason, and nowadays they seemed to be underlined by a note of disapproval.

Of course, not everyone was cold toward him. He'd become acquainted with several of the younger noblemen and knights, who were alright, but their company wasn't akin to Tantalus'. Zidane felt like a fish out of water among them and often downright stupid. He didn't care what they thought, or that he didn't have any manners, but it did make him feel isolated. With Dagger busy doing queen-stuff during the day, Zidane often left the confines of the palace and went to find Ruby or play cards with Alleyway Jack, or have a drink with the triplets. Not that the castle wasn't fun, though. He liked training with Beatrix's knights (for more reasons than just to keep fit) and playing tricks on Rusty and his brigade of incompetents, and trying to catch Dagger alone…

Who, at the present time, was doing a good job at not being found at all.

Eventually, he gave up searching and asked a passing servant where she might be. The girl directed him to the 'Hall of Seven Muses' and when Zidane gave her a blank look, she kindly gave him directions and a warning that she was in a 'very important meeting'.

In Zidane's opinion, the fact that a moogle was sleeping in his bed was far more important than the political well being of Alexandria, so he set off to find her.

After a few wrong turns, several bouts of back tracking and a couple of wayward curses, Zidane came to set of white doors. He was on the brink of shoving them aside with all his usual animated disregard, when the heated voices within pulled him to a halt. Curiously, he stepped closer and listened.

iii.

"What are you _thinking_?"

In anyone else's presence, Garnet would have fought to retain the regal edge to her posture, but as it was only Dimi she slouched in weary defeat. "Narrow your question, please."

"Why are you acting like this, Garnet?" Dimitri fumed.

"Because I'm in love."

Her cousin scoffed. "Love! Being a queen has nothing to do with love. You have to put your kingdom first!"

She slammed a balled fist onto her throne's arm. "Don't lecture me on how to be queen! Everyday I work until I drop to maintain my kingdom and keep my people happy. You have no idea how much work there is behind the glamour and pretences, how many people I strive to keep happy – who, by the way, are never ever satisfied."

"I hope you're not referring to me," Dimi said, "because it's pretty understandable why I'm not satisfied. Come three years ago you were merrily babbling about our wedding and now –"

"I was a foolish girl, back then," Garnet interrupted, "with no concept of what the world had to offer beyond these castle walls. I was only happy because Mother hadn't married me off to some fifty-year-old pervert on the other side of the continent!"

"No, she wouldn't have allowed that, hence why she strove so hard to arrange our engagement! Do you think the past court was happy to know their future queen would wed someone within their own kingdom? You could have been a token of peace for Treno, Lindblum – even Burmecia!"

"All this is irreverent," Garnet sighed wearily. "I've fallen in love."

"You're young; you'll find someone new. Send him away."

"Never! Don't presume you know our love!"

Dimitri approached her and got down on one knee, his hazel eyes large and beseeching. "Garnet, please. Rethink this! You're making a lot of people angry and it is entirely unnecessary. If you marry me I would gladly let you see this Zidane… and I'm glad you're in love because you know I don't feel _that_ way about you."

"I'm sorry, Dimi…"

Dimitri's eyes hardened a tad, but still retained traces of remorse. "Garnet… they'll be a war."

"Over what?" she cried, throwing up her hands. "Whom I marry?"

"Not just that. Firstly, there's the case of further polluting the royal line with common fathered heirs. Secondly, there's the subject of your birth."

"I am legally adopted! I don't see –"

"It is still a nasty shock to the nobility and what with this marriage business… My supporters are going to be delving deep for any excuse to dethrone you now they know the truth. And my mother…"

"They wont win," she declared vehemently. Then her eyes turned soft. "Dimi… You're on my side, aren't you?"

"You know I can't be."

"But you could diffuse this whole matter! Tell them you don't care whom I marry!"

He was silent.

Garnet inhaled sharply, wounded and horrified. "You… you're willing to let this happen… aren't you? You want my throne…"

"No, Garnet. I don't. But I was promised the title of prince consort and people were expecting it to be handed to me… The court –"

"To hells with the court!" Garnet fumed. "What of our friendship?"

Dimitri stood and cast Garnet a look that was only stony around the edges. "Friendship? What of our _engagement_? What of that?"

"Please don't do th- aah!"

Garnet shrieked as the doors adjacent were slammed aside with such force they shook on their hinges. Furious at being interrupted, Garnet reared out of her throne and took a menacing step forward –

only to find Zidane framing the doorway.

Everyone became stone, statues positioned on the marble floor with indecipherable expressions. The silence was so profound Garnet could have been fooled into believing every member of the castle had relocated to the Lost Continent.

Then Zidane said, "Get out."

Dimitri turned a baffled look to Garnet, because no one but the queen could dismiss people in her presence, but when he spotted her expression and sensed the tension brewing like a thunder storm he wisely chose to discard protocol.

"Rethink it," he whispered, before bowing and leaving the hall through a side door.

iv.

"You heard…" Garnet stated feebly.

Zidane stalked inside and slammed the doors behind him. He stopped in the middle of the hall, some way from Garnet but close enough so she could see the fury and – worse of all –betrayal burning in his eyes.

He crossed his arms, tail erratically thrashing, and wordlessly prompted an explanation.

"I… he… well, I…" she ineloquently fumbled, then took a breath, counted to ten in her head, and started again.

"Since Alexandria's monarchy began, every woman – and often men – in the household are pieces on a game board traded and moved to strategically enhance the kingdom's power. I'm no different. Like all girls in the royal family, my suitor was chosen when I was about nine and I was due to wed him when I turned eighteen." She shrugged. "It's the way things are done."

Zidane said nothing, eyes still burning and tail still thrashing.

"And things would have remained that way had the war not occurred…" She trailed off, fleetingly pondering the extreme differences her future would hold had she not fled the castle the night Tantalus first came to perform. She shook her head. "But then I met you… and I can't go through with it."

Zidane's hands dropped to his sides and all the anger dissipated into heart wrenching sadness. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I thought I could fix it without causing much fuss… I knew they wouldn't fall into line immediately but… I don't know. I guess I thought you wouldn't understand…"

"Dagger… couples are meant to share things with each other, and something this big shouldn't be kept a secret! You were _engaged_ and you _didn't tell me_? How do you think that makes me feel?"

Garnet descended the steps but paused a little way in front of him, as if any sudden movements might startle him off. Anxiously, she clasped her hands in front of her chest.

"'Engagament' is too intimate a word. It was just a contract. Dimi and I don't feel that way about each other…"

"Oh, that makes it all better!" Zidane snapped sardonically. "Dagger, you're marrying someone else!"

"No! You have to understand that my heart has been with you the entire time! Never for a second would I consider marrying Dimitri, not now."

"Isn't he your goddamn cousin!?" Zidane churlishly countered.

"Technically, he's the son of my first cousin once removed, who is the daughter of my great uncle, making him my second cousin. But if you really want to get technical about it – and gods know I think a lot of people will henceforth – I'm not really related to any of them."

Zidane seemed unamused, so she took a beseeching step forward. "Please believe me, I never intended to hurt or lie to you…"

"But even if you don't marry that guy, what then!? What of me? Are you just assuming I'd go along with getting married!? Don't I even get a chance to fucking propose!? You're arranging my life without me even having a say!"

Garnet startled back a bit. "But… Don't you want to be with me?"

Zidane threw up his hands and turned away. "Gods, yes! Yes… But… Shit, everything's just so much… Why didn't you just tell me? I would've helped… Don't you trust me? Do you think I'm too stupid?"

"No! I just…"

"I've never been anything but honest with you. Geez, what else have you been keeping from me, huh?"

He'd said it jokingly, not actually expecting an admission, but when she lapsed into silence he spun round in livid surprise. "What!?"

Her gaze dropped to the floor. "I… I haven't been taking medication to prevent pregnancy…"

"You… You… You are kidding me? Please tell me you're kidding me."

Silence.

"Are you…?"

"Not yet…"

Zidane took a long, shuddering breath. "I'm eighteen, Dagger, _eighteen_. And you're asking me to get married and start a family."

She wished the floor would swallow her whole. How could she have been so stupid? Of course Zidane didn't understand the complexities of court but she'd never thought of explaining it to him either… "Zidane please…"

"No!" he yelled. "I wont listen! If you can't be honest with me then I can't be bothered with you!"

Garnet's heart dropped to the floor and smashed. "Don't say that… No, don't you dare… Don't you lea-"

But he had already turned a furious circle, tail accidentally whipping her so hard it would leave a red mark, and strode toward the door.

She should have pursued him, should have forced him back with every muscle and every word, but Garnet was frozen, her heart leaving the way it came in with the resounding bang of slamming doors.


	8. Black And Blue

Thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter! I'm very flattered by the positive feedback, especially considering I thought it was a little dull. Hopefully this chapter will please just as much! I am so freakin' tired ALL THE TIME, so I am sorry if it's sketchy in place, I don't really have time to check it thoroughly.

Enjoy nonetheless!

* * *

**Chapter Seven**  
Black and Blue

i.

The light from the candle began to flicker, and dark shadows skittered across the walls while the moons' light quietly filtered through an open window.

Garnet glanced up with a frown just as the flame spluttered out. The candle had burnt down to a pool of wax, which was strange considering it felt like she'd lit one anew just a few minutes ago. Had she been in here so long?

Sighing heavily, Garnet rummaged beneath her desk and found a box of candles. She fixed one into the holder and lit it with a tinderbox. The flame grudgingly flickered to life and the contents of the room were revealed – something that wasn't necessarily pleasing. The desk was obscured by two piles of paperwork: one that never seemed to grow and one that never seemed to lessen, her 'done' pile and 'to do' pile.

Garnet took a moment to lean back in the chair, frowning slightly at the excessive amount of paperwork that had accumulated over the past few days. Paperwork was an obligatory aspect of running a kingdom, but most of it was handled by an accountancy team, who delivered to her the documents she needed to personally oversee and those that required a signature. Beatrix dealt with some too, but she had been irritatingly sparse of late.

Garnet was tired of people avoiding her. Ever since the ordeal with Dimitri two weeks beforehand the nobility were split in half, and a portentous cloud had settled over the castle as palpable as Mist. Nothing had been settled as of yet, and every noble who timidly inquired whether she – after the sudden disappearance of her actor friend –would reconsider the engagement were abruptly sent away before they could even finish their sentence.

So now everyone was ill at ease. Dimitri and Venira had left the morning after Zidane's disappearance, Venira leaving an air of displeasure in her wake and Dimitri offering another sharp but apologetic farewell.

She hadn't liked how he'd said it at all.

And if Zidane had been there, none of it would have mattered. She felt his absence so acutely it was blade in her heart that refused to budge, no matter how hard she tried to wrench it free.

At first, she had been inconsolable. She'd drifted to her bedroom wearing a stotic mask lest anyone see, but as soon as those doors were closed she sank to the bedcovers and tried to think hard and be strong, even try to be angry. Then she noticed the sheets smelt of him and her emotion shattered like porcelain.

She refused to leave her room for three days.

'He'll be alright', Blank had said when he heard the news. But it wasn't exactly what she wanted to hear. Knowing he'd be alright was fair enough, but she wanted to know he'd come back.

But Blank didn't have answers. He just shrugged and – in all honesty – seemed a little angry.

Why couldn't anyone understand that she'd had their best intentions in mind? She would never do anything to hurt Zidane – gods, he was the love of her life! Why couldn't anyone understand – most of all Zidane?

The days dragged on without him. He'd been gone for two years previously yet this time seemed worse; the lonely nights were unbearable. She'd fooled herself into thinking he'd stay forever this time, and had stupidly allowed herself to fully embrace her love. And now what? Her feelings had been betrayed and she was hurting like never before.

Garnet sighed and slouched into her chair. _Gods I'm such a selfish little girl. Haven't I matured at all? Am I still that naive princess from years past?_

_Zidane must be hurting too_, she reminded herself. _More so than I. I was dishonest with him; I went behind his back. But why couldn't he understand… it was all for him?_

There was a knock at the door.

"Yes?" Garnet called wearily, then straightened up a touch, not wanting anyone to see her for what she felt inside: a broken mess. "Enter!"

The door opened a crack and the room flooded with light from the night torches outside. A servant edged in and bobbed his head respectfully.

"Your Majesty," he said, "I have some unfortunate news."

Garnet resisted the urge to ask him to leave. She couldn't take anymore bad news. "What is it?"

The servant crossed her study and placed a document in front of her. Garnet squinted at the series of haphazard gashes striping the stained page.

"What's this?"

"A death toll, your majesty," the servant answered grimly. "I'm sorry to report there's been an outbreak of plague in one of your provinces. A nasty one at that."

Garnet picked up the sheet, which suddenly made sense. The document was a tally of all those that had died. "What plague is it?"

"It is unrecognised."

"Great," Garnet muttered. "Just what we need. Where is it?"

"The Veluccia province."

Garnet lowered the document incredulously. "Are you serious? Gods, what bad luck… That's Dimi's province! Is he okay?"

"The report was sent a week ago. There is no way of telling momentarily."

Garnet sighed, glancing at the statistics. "Well, it could be worse, I suppose. The death toll isn't horrendous and at least Veluccia's on the outskirts of Alexandria…"

"Word is that it's spreading quickly."

Garnet glanced up. "Where is Beatrix? She needs to oversee this."

"General Beatrix has been elsewhere for the majority of the evening."

"Oh for the love of Ramuh! Find her, would you? This is important!"

The servant bowed and left Garnet to contemplate the grim new problem that had landed on her desk.

_A plague_, Garnet thought_, that's all I bloody need! There hasn't been a plague since Father first ascended the throne, so why now!? The gods truly have a twisted sense of humour…_

Feeling it unwise to make imperative decisions without Beatrix's guidance, Garnet retrieved her quill and began signing paperwork to take her mind off the innumerable problems currently weighing her soul to the ground.

ii.

"Hgh!"

Garnet startled awake. Her elbow shot out as she bolted upright and caught the inkwell, which fell to the carpet in a spray of ink. The queen blinked at it stupidly, before her reactions ground into action and she stooped to get it. She set it back on the table and stared at it in a grim daze.

She'd fallen asleep. Again. What was the time anyway? It felt like the morning should already be underway but outside it was still dark, and the candle she'd replaced hours earlier was burned halfway.

Garnet buried her head in her arms and closed her eyes. She'd been dreaming an awful dream. In it, she had been clad in her mother's wedding dress (of course, she hadn't been around when Brahne had married her father, but Brahne had often let Garnet see the gown, which was still in storage somewhere) and waiting down the aisle for a groom whose identity remained a mystery. There was a red carpet between the wooden pews with white rose petals strewn across its surface. Garnet was nervous. She looked for a familiar face among the crowds of people filling the benches but they were hazy and unfamiliar. She stood and waited and waited and waited, and then she'd woken up.

Garnet groaned into her arms and wriggled. Her back hurt from the wooden chair. A part of her almost succumbed to returning to bed, but it still hurt too much. Mene had been right about one thing: the bed was far too large for one person alone, something she'd never acknowledged until she'd shared it with someone else. She felt Zidane's absence most acutely at night, when the vast space beneath the sheets had her guilt and loneliness clawing for attention.

No. She would not return to her bedchambers alone.

Garnet felt her mind drift; a blanket of sleep began to stifle her thoughts. She could hear her slow breathing and the painful beat of her heart; the room was utterly quiet, not even the servants and guards stirred outside, and town was still as the twin moons above.

Garnet sat up.

_It's too quiet._

The hairs on the back of her neck stirred and her instincts crackled a warning. She spun round with a sharp intake of breath –

-and met a pair of hands.

One immediately clamped over her mouth while the other made quick work of her instinctive attempt to defend herself. The assailant snatched her wrist, yanked her from the chair and spun her round in one deft motion, twisting her arm until she yelled out into the attacker's palm.

Heart thundering, Garnet elbowed the man in the stomach, and while she was rewarded with a definite 'oof', his grip on her wrist did not relent, but he released her mouth to grab the other.

"Guards! Guuaaarrddds! GUUUAAARRRDDDSSS!!!"

She expected the door to be thrown aside in a second, but much to her horror no one responded. This intruder had probably dealt with them and anyone else who had tried to impede.

Wriggling against his vice grip, she hotly exclaimed, "Show yourself, coward! Show yourself to your queen!"

Her wrists were suddenly released as he slipped in front of her with alarming dexterity. She blinked up at his face and recoiled on instinct when faced with a black, featureless mask.

"What do you want?" she snapped, trying to sound fearless despite her pounding dread. This assailant was undoubtedly a man: taller, stronger and apparently faster.

The masked intruder raised a hand and pointed at her.

Garnet backed up some more until the desk was partially in between them. She cursed her cumbersome gown and the space between the desk and door. There was no way she could outrun him.

Just as her brain began to tick over another plan, the intruder cleared the desk with an impressive leap, scattering paperwork and sending the inkwell flying again. She screamed and fell backward and then her was on top of her, with a length of rope in one hand and a rag in the other.

And everything went black.

iii.

To her right, the sky was on fire. The black clouds spiralled to the black earth in monstrous whirlwinds. The rain – oh, the tremendous rain! - fell so hard and so thick it was as if the world had been turned upside down and the ocean was pouring into the sky. The wind was a behemoth's roar in her ears as the world tipped and fell away.

Beneath her – no, not just her, _them_ – the ocean toyed with their little boat, tossing it from wave to wave like a child playing catch. The dark waves touched the dark sky and were so terrifying she couldn't even scream. Then the ocean lurched again and her stomach went with it, but there was no time to even think about vomiting, there was only the mast that creaked and objected beneath her trembling arms and the useless, twitching sail.

She watched in horror as another wave grew from the surging water, and it came crashing toward her with another inhuman roar and she was so drenched it was as if –

…

Garnet gasped awake, lashing out spontaneously and hitting something solid and warm.

The dream was a lifelong partner of hers, but it never became less frightening, even with the revelation of its roots. Knowing who the other person was in the boat, what they were fleeing from and why, made it no better. It was a memory that refused to fade.

Garnet stirred. She imagined she'd be in bed but with a sudden, jerking gasp she realised she was wet. Large dollops of water were splashing against her face – she was facing upwards? – and the world was moving and it was chorused by… by… the sea?

_I'm still dreaming_, Garnet half-thought in her haze of half-consciousness. _I'm stuck in my dream. I'm on the boat, in the storm… Mother!_

She struggled for only an instant before settling back into disquieting, wet darkness.

iv.

When she awoke again, the thunderous clouds had turned into an unblemished aqua sky.

_Midday_? Garnet's bleary thoughts spluttered. _But it wasn't even daybreak when I left…! Have I been unconscious for so long? Have we been travelling all this time?_

As her senses sifted back to the moment, she became aware of the ocean's song, more peaceful this time, gently shushing some way to her left against sand rendered white by a sun that scorched a hole in the brilliant sky. Garnet became aware of the slippery, unrelenting rock beneath her and the kind, warm breeze plucking her drenched gown.

Dizzily, she sat up and flicked wet strands of hair from her face. She scanned the length of beach cautiously, looking for signs of her attacker, but she appeared to be alone. There wasn't even tracks in the sand…

Garnet squinted closer at her surroundings. There was something familiar about this beach, but she couldn't quite put a finger on it. Her father often took her to the beaches in Alexandria as a child… could this be one of them?

But why had she been taken here in the first place?

There was the slap of footsteps against stone behind her, and she scrambled ungainly to her feet. Her gown weighed a tonne, sopping around her ankles and threatening to pull down even the boned corset. She turned round and raised her chin, eager to summon up some aura of dignity, no matter how marginal.

The masked kidnapper stopped a few feet in front of her, head dropping down and up as he appraised her. It was entirely unnerving, but Garnet kept her face vacant and her eyes clear.

"Well," she said, "I see you've successfully kidnapped me. Now what? Are you going to kill me? Drown me? Bury me in the sand?"

The man's shoulder's twitched as he chuckled soundlessly into the mask.

"I warn you, I hold the power of ancient beasts at my fingertips. Bringing me to the ocean wasn't a good idea; Leviathan will drag you to a watery grave."

It was a bluff. Garnet knew full well that without a magic-infused weapon she could not summon the eidolons at whim. Certain trials needed to be met and even thought the link between her and the ancients was stronger than blood, they would not answer to the pleas of a mere girl without some form of protocol. But he didn't know that.

"You can't summon without a weapon," he said.

Garnet blinked, then scowled. Her heart began to beat faster. Frantically, her mind flicked through a catalogue of desperate measures.

_I could run into the sea… maybe if I outran him that far the tide might sweep me out? A passing boat or airship might see me and deliver me back to Alexandria! _

_Stupid, that's stupid. Gods, what am I going to do?_

The kidnapper chuckled again. "Hey, don't look so worried. I'm not gonna kill you anyway."

Garnet took a startled step back. "No… No… Tell me it isn't…?"

The man tore off his mask –

- and Garnet slapped Zidane square across the cheek.

"Y-you – you – you… _bastard_!"

Zidane raised a hand to his stinging face, eyes wide with shock. "D-did you just… _swear_?"

"You complete and utter _bastard_!" She slapped him again on the other cheek and felt tears sting her eyes as anger and relief threatened to send her back to the darkness. "Why would you – wh-why…" She hiccupped, and the first tear streaked down her cheek and met the sand.

"Dagger, don't cry," Zidane pleaded, edging toward her with his hands held high either in an attempt to embrace her or to deflect further assault. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"_Scare me!?_" Garnet trilled with a shocked sob. "Zidane, _I thought I was going to die_."

"Uh…"

"Why would you do something like that!? You just walk out of my life and then walk back in like… like…" She crumbled again, then stumbled awkwardly into his arms, overwhelmed and light-headed. She'd been so afraid to let him back into he heart, but now he was here and real, it was impossible to deny him.

"I had to," Zidane explained. "How else could I get you outta the castle unnoticed?"

"Zidane, this is going to cause an uproar! Someone is bound to notice I've been bloody kidnapped!"

"Naw, all the right people know about it."

"What do you mean?"

"That's a surprise."

Garnet leaned back to stare at him. "What are you planning, Zidane?"

"If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise, would it?"

Moodily, Garnet stepped out of his arms and crossed her own, shivering slightly in her damp gown, and appraised him. "Darn it all. I'm going to be in so much trouble when I get back. Where's your tail?"

"Hidden under my clothes."

"…You put a lot of thought into this didn't you?"

"Not really. Devious deeds are second nature to me. Anyway, I'm pretty skilled in the art of kidnapping princesses, right?"

"Why didn't you just tell me it was you!?"

He shrugged. "More fun this way. Though I have to admit, I didn't think you'd put up that much of a fight. Gods damn it woman, you nearly punctured a hole in my stomach!"

"Excuse me while I weep for your hardship," Garnet drawled. "How did we get here anyway?"

Zidane grinned, stuck his thumb and forefinger into his mouth and whistled. Moments later Choco was at his side, stretching his soft neck to nuzzle Garnet as an after thought.

"Hey, no more questions," the thief warned. "All will be revealed! C'mon. We're gonna be late."

"Late for…? Oh, it doesn't matter. I'm not going anywhere."

Zidane, who was already walking away across the beach, stopped and turned on his heel. "What?"

"I think we need to talk," she stated blandly. "I'm sorry. But… I can't pretend like nothing happened. And neither can you! One minute you're so angry that you leave… the next you're acting like nothing's wrong. I want to talk about this now."

Zidane's expression fell a bit, but he nodded and took her hand and led her in the opposite direction, over some rocks (why did they look so familiar?) and onto a grassy bank. He took a seat behind a large boulder, blocking out the beach and sea and sun, but still open to the warm wind.

"Zidane…" Garnet began hesitantly. "Listen, I'm sorry about –"

"Don't be."

"Will you let me finish!? Please, I'm sorry about not telling you. It was a rotten thing to do but I… I just didn't think you'd understand – and it's not because I think you're stupid! I know you're not. But you weren't brought up the same way I was. I've been told how to behave and how to live my life since I was a little girl. Deciding to flee the castle was my first independent decision of worth. I was brought up not to question the things my betters demand of me. But you weren't brought up like that. You can do what you want, when you want, with whom you want and nobody will bat an eyelid. How could I expect you to understand?"

Zidane listened quietly, fiddling with the buckle on one of his shoes. When she finished, he softly said, "I know you meant well, Dag. But… I dunno… it's like you didn't trust me and that hurt. I tell you personal stuff all the time and I thought you did the same with me. I don't like having secrets kept from me; it pisses me off."

"I'm sor –"

"I know. I know you are. And I forgive you."

Garnet blinked up at him with large, liquid eyes. "You do?"

"Of _course_ I do. So don't say you're sorry again, okay? I shouldn't have… walked out. That was a shitty thing to do 'cause I know you don't like being alone. But I promise everything'll be alright now."

Garnet sighed exasperatedly, raising a hand to her forehead. "How can it be? Even though I've voided the engagement I've got at least thirty angry nobles from all over Alexandria either wanting me off the throne or threatening to form an opposing alliance with Dimi! Who, by the way, hates me now."

"I'm sure he doesn't hate you…"

"There could be a war!" Garnet declared furiously, feeling tears sting her eyes. "All over such inconsequential matters…"

"Listen, you know I'm not gonna let anyone lay a finger on you, and I'll defend anything you want me too with my life. You're not gonna be dethroned while I'm around."

"Zidane…"

"And as for the other thing, well, I can sort that out too."

"What other thing?"

"Will you marry me?"

Garnet's heart stopped and all the noise in the world vanished.

"Uh…" Zidane said, eyes trailing upward as he rummaged through a pocket. "See, I don't have a ring 'cause, y'know, I'm not really into that traditional shit. But I did get you… get… where the fuck is it? Ah, yeah. Here." He rummaged through his other pocket and brought out a bundle of velvet, which he proceeded to unwrap with alarming nonchalance.

The material parted and gave way to a string of sapphires. They hung in bright, flashing parts, catching the sun and branding it blue, perfectly cut and suspended along a delicate chain of silver.

"It's a necklace," Zidane explained lamely as Garnet, still silenced, stared down at the material perfection. "I ah… I don't suppose you remember but it's from –"

"Gods!" Garnet abruptly gasped, blinking round as if shaken from a deep slumber. "Oh dear gods – is this… is this the place we went to…? Sweet Ramuh, it _is_! You took me here two years ago on Choco! It was the first time I ever rode a chocobo and I was terrible… and we came to this beach and you – you spied on me bathing!"

"Ah… spying isn't really the term I'd go for… More like, I accidentally looked in your general direction for a long period of time while you happened to be unclothed…"

"And then you found those sapphires… These are the same…?"

Zidane nodded. "Yep. I told ya I'd make them into a necklace for you."

Garnet stared at him again, her heart breaking – or mending, she wasn't sure which – but either way it was wrenched toward him and her blood felt feather-light and fluttery in her veins. She wanted to laugh and cry and scream simultaneously.

Zidane stared back at her, eyes threaded with hesitance and uncertainty. "So… You wanna get hitched? Uh, again?"

Garnet looked down. "I don't want to force you. You said you didn't want –"

"I was an arsehole," Zidane dismissed. "I didn't mean it. I've said it before and I'll say it again: I wanna be with you, Dagger. I don't care if you're a queen or princess or summoner or whatever; I wont let anyone stand in my way. I just want to be with you."

"I don't care about vows or contracts," Garnet said. "Just promise me… you'll be there for me…"

He didn't even hesitate. "I promise."  
Garnet grinned, then floored him with a kiss that was, by far, the best affirmative response Zidane had ever got.

A/N: Something to note: there's referencing to chapter fourteen of Brick by Brick here. If you're curious (or still don't remember the details after reading this chapter) it might be worth taking a look. Please review on your way out!


	9. White And Blue

Note: Recently, I've been getting a lot of PMs saying 'Please can you read my fic?' or 'I've got this idea for a fic, please write it for me?' Although I'm deeply flattered that – for reasons I've yet to comprehend – people are actually asking my advice on things, I'm afraid I have absolutely no time to spare on anything. I work about 10 hours a day, and unfortunately I'm not exaggerating. It's a miracle this chapter got done as quickly as it has. But again, thank you for taking the time to PM me, and I'm sorry that I'm currently unable to actively give back to my kind reviewers.

On that note, I truly appreciate both the reviews and unerring patience and support I receive from my readers. Seriously, you guys rock my socks.

Also, be prepared for fluff overload this chapter. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Eight  
**White and Blue

i.

"Oh… Uh… Zid, d-did…"

Her sentence fell flat as her gaze picked its way across the mottled sand and rolling waves. She shook her head in disbelief and finally managed to voice her question.

"Zidane… You did all this?"

He nodded with obvious pride, his grin ecstatic. "Yep! I know that it's not exactly what you might have had in mind… It's not particularly grand or nothin', and I did worry about that 'cause you're a queen and all. But in the end I went with it because I feel that I'm marrying Dagger, not Queen Garnet, right?"

Garnet shook her head again, eyes wide and fixed on the unfolding scenery below. "It's better than anything I could've dreamed."

"Hehe…"

"What?"

"Nothing. But you like it, right?"

Garnet threaded an arm through Zidane's and planted an affectionate kiss on his cheek. "It's perfect. How on Gaia did you arrange it all?"

"Well, Tantalus helped a lot. I went back to Lindblum after, y'know, the argument…"

"To rejoin them?"

"Yeah… But Boss kicked that idea outta me. Literally. And then I got my head sorted and here we are now." He paused contemplatively, staring out at the sea. "I always thought I wanted this extravagant wedding if I ever got married, but after meeting you I just wanted something meaningful."

Garnet smiled. "Me too. Honestly, it's perfect." She glanced down. "And um… I'm guessing Ruby helped out too?"

Zidane's gaze curved across the beach toward the silver haired actress, who was stomping through the sand with a sheet of hardened parchment in one hand and a charcoal stick in the other, furiously dictating the Tantalus boys do her bidding (Blank inevitably receiving the hardest of her demands and impatient scorn, and looking none to pleased about it either).

"Actually, she kinda took over," Zidane admitted sheepishly, "and when I tried to stop her… Let's just say not all my new bruises are from the beating Boss gave me."

Garnet tittered and absorbed, for the hundredth time, the breathtaking spectacle below.

In the time Zidane had kept her concealed behind the rock, the beach had been transformed into an environment suitable for a ceremony (and if she squinted to the right, she could pick out the Prima Vista' spires jutting over a hilltop). Chairs had been arranged in rows with a space down the middle as an aisle, and a lattice archway dominated its front, where the delicate woodwork was almost obscured by dozens of white roses. All around the chairs were vases of them, and their scattered petals mingled with the seashells that poked spiny turrets above the sand. There was a buffet closer to the rocks set up on white clothed tables, and Tantalus' band was playing an airy lilt to chorus the ocean.

"Hey, Zidane," Garnet began, "why did you choose white roses for the wedding? They're my favourite but I'm pretty sure I've never told anyone… How could you have known?"

"Secret," Zidane grinned. "Hey, we're late! Ruby'll kick my ass – and Blank's – if we ruin her schedule."

"Are we going down to see everyone?"

Zidane looked shocked. "Like that? Don't think so. You need to get changed."

"You brought me a dress?"

"Maybe. Go get changed with Beatrix, 'kay?"

Garnet startled. "Beatrix is _here_?"

Zidane was already walking away, swinging tail dusting the sand left and right. "'Course! Everyone's here! Now hurry up!"

"Um…" Garnet said, blinking down at the small crowd who were breeching the top of an adjacent hilltop. She sighed in defeat, but not without a small smile. "How does he _do_ these things?"

ii.

Zidane found Blank hiding conspicuously behind one of the Prima Vista's protruding edifices, glancing warily about the small crowd dawdling their way to the rows of chairs.

"Yo, best man," Zidane greeted. "Hiding from Ruby again?"

"She doesn't give me a frickin' break."

"Yeah but she's gonna be mad if she finds you hiding."

"She'll be mad either way," Blank mumbled glumly. He tore his hazel gaze from the scenery and had it rest on Zidane. "So… I'm guessing she said 'yes'?"

"Who'd say no to a face like this?"

"Wow," Blank granted, eyebrows raised. "Wow. So you really gettin' hitched, huh?"

Zidane kneeled down and threw open a chest and sought for the simple but fine clothes Ruby had picked out for him to wear. He pulled off his black vest with one hand and trawled through the clothes with the other.

"Yep," he confirmed with airy nonchalance. "For real this time. I don't think anyone counts the whole fiasco at Conde Petite."

Blank shook his head in disbelief. "Of all the people I ever thought would get married, you were bottom of the list."

Zidane shrugged. "Eh. People change." He looked askance slyly. "What about you and Ruby anyways?"

Blank grimaced. "Please. Please, gods, don't mention the 'M' word to Ruby. She's been giving me shit about it ever since you decided to through with the wedding. And you're lucky 'cause Garnet doesn't really care if she has a big wedding or not. I swear, Ruby wants me to give her the fucking moon as an engagement gift."

Zidane grinned, pulling on a shirt and then a waistcoat. "Heh. Just do what I did: kidnap her and force her to marry you."

"I beg your pardon?" a voice cut in.

Zidane and Blank turned to behold Freya, looking particularly resplendent with her silver hair in soft waves and her furry limbs partially obscured by an ethereal dress. She appraised Zidane in turn with a raised, unamused eyebrow.

"You look nice," the thief tried with a winning smile.

"You kidnapped her?" Freya ignored the attempt.

"Um…"

"Gods, I thought Baku had been joking! Do you know how damaging such an act could be for a queen? How intricate the alibi must be to disguise her absence? The amount of rescheduled appointments and the inevitable offence caused? I swear, Zidane, the very clouds must envy the reckless wandering of your mind!" She ceased her tirade quite suddenly, and her muzzle split into a genuinely affectionate smile. "But I cannot condemn the reasons behind your candid actions, for once. Happy wedding, you lecherous monkey."

Zidane thumbed his nose, a bit embarrassed. "Heh. Thanks. So is everyone ready yet?"

"Everyone except you, it seems."

"Shit," Zidane panicked, and hastily kicked off his trousers, whereupon Freya turned on her heel with a disgusted snort and marched across the sand to rejoin the fairer, and better mannered, of the guests.

"Does it bother you that you're gonna be, like, royalty after this?" Blank inquired after a few moments.

Zidane thought about this while securing the cravat around his neck, contemplating his reflection in a polished scrap of metal at the base of the Prima Vista. "I dunno really. I don't think anything will change much. Dagger knows better than anyone how crap I am when it comes to court stuff."

"So what are you gonna do all day? Just sit around waiting for Garnet to come to bed?"

He meant it as a joke, but Zidane's expression turned sombre and Blank regretted the offhand remark. His brother shrugged awkwardly and evasively replied, "I dunno. I'll figure something out. But right now, I just wanna be with Dagger, and I'm not gonna let some pansy noble take her away from me."

"Hmph. Well, whatever happens, I'll be around if ya need back up. Which you inevitably will, knowing you."

"And that's why you're my best man, best man!" Zidane granted, clapping the redhead on the shoulder. He indicated to his outfit. "How'd I look?"

"Like a monkey in a suit."

"…Gee, thanks, asshole."

iii.

"Dagger, you look so beautiful!"

Garnet glanced down at Eiko sceptically, cocking her head. "Do you really think so?"

The little girl, who looked positively saintly in her pale bridesmaid dress, nodded furiously, and Garnet reckoned she must look reasonable at best because that little glint of jealously had wormed its way into Eiko's lavender eyes again.

"You look like an angel," the girl reinforced wistfully. "I can't believe you're getting married!"

"Neither can I," Garnet granted with a smile. "At least, not today and on a beach. Not that I mind it's just… it's all so quick and overwhelming!" She shook her head and Beatrix clucked impatiently.

"Your majesty, please, I cannot arrange your head dress when you move your head so. Kindly be still."

"S-sorry!" Garnet said, and stood to attention.

Beatrix resumed threading her hair – which had turned sweetly tousled by the sea-salt air – with the small, white flowers that grew wild along the grassy bank further along the beach. The girls carried poesies of them, alongside the white roses, which glowed ethereal in the midday sun.

Careful not to irk Beatrix again, Garnet glanced down at her dress. It was unblemished ivory ('Not white,' Ruby had said, and then added with a sly grin, '_You_ certainly can't wear white') and strapless, simple aside from the delicate lace trim along the hems, and raised slightly at the front hem to allow navigation through the sand. The sapphire necklace was a comfortable weight against her neck, and around her wrists were flower-chains Eiko had threaded with dizzy excitement while Hilda had spent the better part of an hour fussing over her hair.

"Y-you look so beau-beau-beau…" Hilda managed before breaking into tears again. She dabbed lightly at the corner of her eyes with a white kerchief, retaining her feminine elegance even as she sobbed.

"Mother," Eiko whined. "Stop crying! It's so embarrassing. If Dagger isn't crying then you shouldn't be either!"

Garnet smiled, then raised her head slightly to greet a curiously ruffled Freya, who was stomping through the sand muttering under her breath. The Burmecian came up short when she spotted Garnet though, her angry muttering blossoming into a smile.

"You look splendid," she said. "I can't believe that ill-mannered heathen has managed to capture the heart of the most refined, upstanding woman in all of the Mist states!"

Garnet shrugged off the compliment with a disarming giggle. "Oh, stop. It's all so wonderful, though. Just having everyone important to me here… I couldn't have asked for more."

"He knows you well," Freya allowed. "Are you nearly ready?"

"I think so, though I don't think I've made a single decision since I've arrived! Beatrix, am I ready?"

"As you'll ever be, I suppose, considering the short notice."

Beatrix's hands left her hair, and Garnet turned to her. "Do you disapprove?"

The general, whose hair was pinned back in such a way that her ringlets spilled like whirls of caramel down her back, gave a slight shake of her head. "I think this was a wonderful idea, but I do wish he'd informed me of the… kidnapping."

"He said you knew!" the queen gasped, genuinely horrified. Then she retracted, "Oh… No, he said all the 'right' people knew…"

"Which means Tantalus," Beatrix confirmed with a sigh. "My poor guards. He could have at least given _them_ some warning."

"But… the castle does know –"

"Do not concern yourself, your majesty," Beatrix dismissed with a raised hand. "Arrangements have been made. As soon as he appeared on Choco dressed in black, with you unconscious in his arms, Steiner just about had a fit."

"Naturally."

"Word has been sent back. There is nothing abroad that cannot be dealt with."

Garnet nodded, the tight ball of worry a lighter load, if not entirely dispersed. She fiddled with the lace of her dress for a moment, a nervous butterfly batting wings inside her tummy, and she suddenly realised that everyone was waiting on her word.

"Oh," she said, with a coy grin. "I guess it's time! Um… how does this work?"

"I'll make sure everyone's in place," Freya said, giving her a reassuring pat on the arm. "And make sure _he_ hasn't wandered off somewhere."

"Baku is seeing you down the aisle," Beatrix said, and Garnet broke into a fit of giggles.

"I'm flower girl!" Eiko declared with fierce pride. "And the ring bearer! For _both_ rings."

"Is everyone down there already?" Garnet asked anxiously, standing on her tiptoes (bare foot in the sand) to peer over the rock that concealed her.

Beatrix nodded. "I believe so. Blank, Ruby, Cinna, Marcus, the triplets –"

"Baku," Eiko added, "Steiner, Frately, Mikoto, Vivi's sons…"

"Quina, Regent Cid and Lady Hilda, even Prince Puck."

"And Mene and Choco! And all the moogles from Maidain Sari!" Eiko squealed, then she pouted grumpily. "Everyone except silly old Amarant. Zidane sent him an invitation but he didn't even turn up."

Garnet smiled. "That's okay. I don't think weddings are really his thing. Oh goodness, Ruby's calling us. We better get a move on. Now are you sure I look okay?"

"You could look good in a potato sack, Dagger," Eiko primly informed her. "Now c'mon! I wanna see Zidane's face when you walk down the aisle!"

iv.

In the end, he'd looked more pleased then anything, though about what specifically, she wasn't sure. It had been surreal, standing with her hands in his, the sky burning blue and the sand nipping between her toes, and she'd felt all giddy with it, even to the point where she found herself blushing a bit under his intense gaze and the loving approval of her closest friends. Blank had stood some way behind him, belittled somewhat by Choco, who remained faithfully close to his master's side, liquid eyes patient and faintly mystified. The minister's voice was a steady drone against the sea's vibrant melody, the wind picking the lace of her dress and stealing petals, but she found she couldn't take her eyes off Zidane's the entire time, and standing where she was now, she was so glad she hadn't given into politics and married for convenience. When they sealed their matrimony with a kiss and the small crowd cheered, Garnet was positively overflowing with bliss.

But now, as she stared hesitantly into Zidane's averted eyes, she had an uneasy knot it her belly. They were cast toward the horizon, reflecting the sea and the sky and the limitless beyond. They were hungry, restless, youthful. Never still.

Behind them, people danced on the sand and ate from the buffet. The sea stole the sand beneath her feet with cold little fingers and a short distance from the shore, Choco ploughed the waves with his ingot beak.

"Zidane," Garnet began tentatively, lowering her voice even though the young evening brought with it a breeze and the sea and band drowned her words to outsiders anyway.

He turned to her, eyes momentarily catching the setting sun, and for an instant it looked like the whole world was reflected behind that blue. He smiled; he looked happy. Genuinely happy. But that was Zidane, Garnet told herself, he was usually happy; it wasn't his nature to contemplate the future. As queen, her days were consumed with the future; as a thief, his days were concerned with the present, with living.

"What is it?" he pressed as she wondered whether to pursue the matter at all.

She did. "I know it's silly," she excused firstly, "especially considering we're… married now –"

"Isn't it weird?" he interrupted with a wide smile. "It's like… _me_, I'm married… and to _you_! Of all people! I could never have wished for anyone better…"

She smiled gingerly, gaze tottering across the sea foam.

Oblivious, "I never thought I'd get married, y'know. Not so soon anyway, but I guess it doesn't make a difference whether it's today, tomorrow or years later, as long as it's with someone –"

"Zidane," she cut him off, "do you think we rushed into this?" She paused, and reconsolidated, "_You_ rushed into this?"

He stared at her, taken aback.

"Dagger, it's our wedding day and you're bringing this up now? After everything? You were the one who wanted to get married in the first place – though don't get me wrong I wanted to as well but… it's a bit too late –"

"I'm not saying I don't want to be with you," she said. "I'm saying I don't want you to be with me."

"I… I don't understand…"

"That's the problem," she said. "You _don't_ understand. I'm a queen. You're… well… "

"What?" he spat. "A _thief_?"

"No. You're _you_." Garnet glanced out to sea. The dying sun sat neatly on the waves, as if perched on Leviathan's undulating back, and reflected red in Garnet's rich eyes.

"You're not ready to settle down," she stated simply.

Zidane paused, then grasped her arms with surprising force, tearing her rueful gaze from the ocean. "How can you say that? Did the time we spent together get erased completely from your mind while I was away? Do I need to remind you? You want me to recite the fucking list? I jumped off a castle for you, I fought monsters of every kind for you, I stayed up for hours on watch so you could sleep, I've travelled the length of a world and another and hunted down my own brother – _all for you_. What do I have to do to prove I love you? Save the world? Oh, that's right, I already fucking have."

Garnet stared sadly into his eyes, then raised a hand and ran a finger along his jaw. "I know you love me. I know that. And I love you. But… My world would shackle you. It would destroy you – who you are. You're not a person made for the deceit, the finery, the façade and the imprisonment of royalty. I could not… I _will_ not let you inside that part of my life. I couldn't watch you turn from the person I love into the dull, doll-like nobles that hound me daily."

"I wont –"

"You will," she opposed firmly, then sighed, and out of a habit she thought she'd long sine shrugged off, her hand strayed the comforting weight of the sapphire necklace, mirroring the gesture of old when the Falcon's Claw still swung from her neck.

"I'm not leaving you," Zidane defied, a crack in his voice. "I wont do it. I wont walk away. I don't care if you don't understand; you're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

Garnet's mind mulled this over. An idea that had formed some time back after his initial return, edged back into contemplation and this time she grasped it with both hands. She returned his fierce, desperate gaze with her own resolute one, inwardly drawing the courage from the delicate pendants strung about her neck, cool beneath her fingertips. Somewhere to the left the music blared obviously, and to the right the sea remained indifferent.

"I don't want you leave me," she said. "Not ever. But… I wont allow you to live in the castle."

Zidane took a step back. "What?"

She nodded now, sure of her idea now it was verbally expressed. "I wont watch your essence drain away, I wont let boredom ruin you."

"You're… you're sending me… away?"

"No," she amended. "You can stay wherever you want, save the castle, and you can see me whenever and as often as you wish."

"Then I'll visit permanently," he retorted.

She smiled. "No, you wont. Maybe you will for a while, but you'll get bored eventually, and when you do I wont tie you down." He went to object but she cut him off. "You can't lie to me, or to yourself. One day, when you feel the time is right – and please, don't say the time is now – you'll settle down. And I'll wait for you, until then."

Unbeknownst to them both, the tide had come in, and they were ankle deep in water. Zidane's tail made little whirlpools as it cut lazily through the surf. His eyes were a violent clash of painful emotion, but Garnet refused to avert her gaze, her own being resolute and half pleading.

Eventually his eyes dropped to the water. He mumbled, "You're still mine, right?"

She closed the gap between them and encircled her arms around his waist, head pressed against his chest. "Always."

"I'll never be far."

"I know."

"And I'm still gonna help myself to the food in the kitchens…"

She smiled. "I know."

He sighed, melancholy, but accepting, and returned her embrace. "I don't really understand any of this, but if it will make you happy…"

She kissed him on the nose. "Trust me on this, okay?"

"If anyone lays a finger on you while I'm gone –"

"They wont. You're reputation comes in handy, you know."

"Which one? The endowed womaniser or the dexterous thief?"

"I meant the world-renowned hero."

"Oh."

"Just don't worry, okay? I'll work it all out when we get back to the castle." She turned her back on the ocean for the moment, though kept her eyes firmly fixed on Zidane. "Come on. Let's get back to our wedding. Gods know we deserve it."


	10. Restraints

**Again, I apologise for the wait between chapters, and thank you for the reviews and PMs. I'm heading home next week and will have lots of free time, so I'm hoping Christmas will be a time for updates! Also, I'm posting a little ficlet based on my favourite fanfic feature, the Tantalus boys, so keep an eye out for that over the next few days! MoreBlankplz.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter Nine  
**Restraints  
i.

For as long as anyone could remember, be they thieves, princesses, whores or otherwise, Zidane Tribal had never ever knocked on a door before entering. Perhaps it was a genome thing, a Gaian custom Garland overlooked teaching his budding experiment, or perhaps it was Zidane's unforeseen upbringing with mannerless bandits (what would they walk in on that they hadn't seen a hundred times before?). Perhaps it was both. At any rate, Zidane never had bothered announcing his presence and nor would he start now.

Regardless of his surroundings and the suspiciously absent occupants, Zidane strode along the corridor and shoved aside a door he had yet to pass through in his search for company. The old wooden frame creaked loudly as it swung aside and banged against a wall – a dusting of plaster jittering to the floor and a picture frame juddering on its nail – and promptly found the missing occupants of the small, one bedroom flat above the mini theatre.

He was hailed by an outraged shriek and, "Fucking hell, you prick, ever heard of knocking!?"

Zidane took perhaps a second longer than needed before he departed with an appropriately apologetic – and entirely feigned – look, long enough to appreciate the unaccommodating position of his friends.

The approving and inarguably cheeky grin that began to spread across his face didn't go unnoticed to the outraged pair before the door slammed closed again.

Outside, Zidane paused, hands in pockets, bouncing on his heels, wondering whether he should wait outside until they were… finished. After some contemplation he firmly decided he wanted to be well out of Ruby's immediate line of fire, and concluded his safest bet was to wait the storm out in the closed bar downstairs. No doubt Blank would unjustly receive the worst of her ranting, and after that she might have calmed down to the point where she just sulked unapproachably in a corner; a decidedly better alternative to being yelled at.

He wound his way back down the spiral staircase that led to the dressing room at the stage's rear, then to the deserted theatre's front, where he sat on a high stool at the bar and brooded with his arms folded against the beer-stained surface.

He wasn't alone with his thoughts for long, as Blank stomped angrily into the theatre moments later, sparsely dressed and with a face like thunder.

"Fucking hell," he started with a vengeance, "do you know how hard it is to get Ruby to put out!?"  
Zidane grinned at the accusation. "What's wrong? Losing your touch?"

"No," Blank simmered defensively. "She's just… her. And then you come along and fucking interrupt."  
"Hehe…"

"You think it's fucking funny? Fine. I'm gonna walk in on you and Garnet and see how you fucking like it. Asshole."

Blank loudly pulled another stool alongside his brother's and claimed it, resigned to the futility of ranting to someone as sexually candid as Zidane. He leaned across the bar and pulled himself a pint, and then another, sliding the latter toward Zidane.

"So," he said. "What's up and why are you bringing your problems to me?"

"Well… It's kinda embarrassing…" Zidane began with a sheepish scratch of the head. "Dagger kinda kicked me out of the castle…"

"Trouble in paradise?" Blank joked. Zidane was unimpressed. He retracted, "No shit?"

"Yeah. On our wedding day as well."

"What the hell did you do?"

"Nothing!" he protested defensively. "Not like that anyway. I dunno. She said I wouldn't get along in the castle… didn't want me to become like the nobles or somethin'…"

"Makes sense."

"Yeah… it's just ah… the problem now is…"

Suddenly, Blank fit the pieces together. "Oh no. No no no no. There's no way –"

"Aw, c'mon, help a brother out!"

"You don't understand! This isn't my place, it's _Ruby's_!"

Zidane clasped his hands together, a pathetic plea aimed at Blank. "Pleeeasssee? I need somewhere to stay!"

"No way, man," Blank refused. "Where are you gonna sleep? There's only one bedroom!"

"I'll sleep with Ruby," Zidane (half) joked, but relented beneath Blank's glower. "On the floor?"

Blank sighed and drank from his flagon. "I dunno, man. She's not gonna be happy. And you know I can't take your corner on this. Why don't you go grovel at Boss' door?"

"You know what happened last time I did that…"

"Not my problem."

"I'll sleep on the floor," Zidane tried again hopefully.

"You," Blank said, "aren't sleeping anywhere near Ruby."  
"Hey! I'm a married man now! You can trust me!"

Blank snorted. "Famous last words."

Zidane looked shocked. "When have I ever given you reason not to trust me?"

The redhead mirrored his astonishment. "Are you fucking kidding? Um… how 'bout that time you slept with Sylvia?"

"You said you weren't interested in her!"

"Or the time I caught you in bed with Luciella?"

"We weren't doing anything… _bad_…"

"And Alice?"

"Sh-she came onto me!" Zidane held up his hands, terminating Blank's accusations. "Okay, okay, but that's all in the past, yeah? I told you: _I am married now_. And I love Dagger." He sobered a bit, turning to stare at his drink. "I really really do…"

Blank stared at the muted genome, then sighed and ran a hand across his face. "Fine, fine. I'll put in a good word for you, okay? But I'm tellin' ya now she's gonna want to think about it. She doesn't even like _me_ hangin' around."

"What am I gonna do in the meantime?"

"Don't know, don't care."

Zidane rubbed his chin pensively. "I guess Dagger will be alright for a while…"

Catching his drift, "You sure it's a good idea to disappear?"

"Only for a while," Zidane rectified. "I mean, Dagger pretty much has a nervous break down every time I stare out a window for more than a minute. Maybe it'll do us both good."

"Wont the nobility be… I dunno… pissed about the newly crowned prince consort fucking off a week after the wedding?"

Zidane shrugged grumpily. "Who cares what they think. Dagger's got Beatrix to take care of her anyways, and Rusty I suppose. I reckon I could find somewhere to squat for a few weeks. And in the meantime you can convince Ruby to set me up for a while."

Blank grimaced. "Yeah. Thanks."

"Try hard," Zidane chirped merrily and finished his beer.

ii.

Seven days after her unannounced, impromptu wedding, Mene prematurely roused Garnet from slumber. Normally, such an intrusion would warrant a slap at the very least, but the queen didn't retaliate this time. Even though Mene was a far cry from Zidane, she'd rather wake up to the straw-smelling fluff-ball than an empty, aching space.

With every light snore Mene's wing fluttered against her cheek, the cause of her disturbance. She pushed the moogle away slightly, filling her absent husband's bay, and tried to reclaim sleep as the sky was only beginning to blush with dawn.

Unfortunately, Mene woke up.

"Exccuuusee me," he grumbled sleepily. "Kupo."

"Sorry," Garnet said. "Hey you, I thought Zidane said you weren't allowed in here?"

"Maybbeee…" the moogle replied evasively. "But he's not here, is he? So I guess that rule doesn't mean anything, kupo."

Garnet refused to let the comment sting her. She'd heard Zidane return from Ruby's bar in the early hours of the morning, rummage through some chests, and leave again. She didn't question him. It was always best not to, and she did maintain the pretence of being asleep.

"Do you know where he's gone?"

"Be quiet I'm trying to sleeppp…"

"Please, Mene?"

"I don't know, kupo! But Choco's gone. Now be quiet." And he buried beneath the covers.

Garnet sighed, inadvertently exploring her thoughts.

She'd let him stay in the castle for a number of days following the wedding as a kind of 'honeymoon' period, as he'd been dreadfully upset that she couldn't take more time off. But she was adamant, and promised him a holiday in the near future instead (once the worry of the court's reaction and the sudden plague epidemic was behind her), and let him stay because she owed him that much, at least.

When the Alexandrians were told of the wedding there was an explosive bout of celebration that lasted for days. The citizens seemed unbothered that their new prince consort was common born. On the contrary, they seemed gladdened by it. Garnet had been worried the ale would run dry within a day.

The court had known it was coming. There was frosty silence and frostier congratulations, and some genuine warmth, but they were mainly flustered that their queen had had a private, unorthodox wedding. To keep the dogs from snapping at her heels, Garnet held several 'official' parties where certain members celebrated the union in a suitable fashion. Zidane had tolerated them with acceptance and limited understanding, and then he had his friends – some of them the shadiest people Garnet had ever laid eyes on – and some of her own celebrate in a rowdier fashion at Ruby's Theatre. The ale literally ran dry.

And then, by some unspoken agreement, their honeymoon period came to an end, and Zidane left.

_But not permanently_, Garnet told herself firmly. And even firmer: _It's for his own good. _

She nodded to herself, unsettled. And very much awake.

Tentatively, Garnet decided upon a brisk stroll through her grounds. She slipped out of the covers and donned a warm dress and shrug, then pulled on a pair of boots. She clasped her hair back to give her dishevelled morning appearance something regarding regality on the slim chance a noble might wander her path, and approached the door.

Ready to depart, she wrapped her fingers around the handle.

"I wouldn't go out if I were you, kupo."

Garnet glanced back at the talking mound of covers, eyebrow raised inquisitively. "Oh?"

"I don't care," Mene's muffled voice informed. "It's human stuff. Moogles don't care, kupo."

Garnet frowned a bit, too dazed from her interrupted sleep to decipher his words. It required an effort she decided the brisk walk would supply, so stashed it away for later inspection.

Garnet left her chamber and walked the corridors unimpeded. Something itched uneasily in the back of her mind. Disturbed, she went to her canals and watched the half-light play with the waves. She mourned Zidane's departure quietly.

As she walked alongside water and over bridges she caught sight of a plume of smoke effecting a lazy spiral into an otherwise unblemished sky. It was not that of a cookfire. Its billowing turret was jet against the horizon. As Garnet looked on with growing trepidation, she noticed how it rose from the outskirts of her city in the only location that Alexandria could be penetrated by land, where the lakes briefly scattered before reuniting into waterfalls.

Garnet calmed herself quickly. If there were an attack on the city the alarm would be raised by now. However, the smoke didn't bode well and Alexandria, built as it was with wooden foundations, could not afford a large fire. Bahumut could testify to that.

Keen to get a better look, Garnet made her way to the wall encircling the palace grounds, some two hundred feet high and several thick, and ascended a spiral flight of stone steps, worn over the centuries by the trample of countless feet.

At the top she encountered two Pluto Knights, standing close together and staring at the plume of smoke with grim curiosity.

"Sir Blutzen, Sir Kohel," she greeted, and the knights nearly tumbled headfirst over the wall in fright.

"Y-Your Majesty!" they stuttered in unison, fumbling for a decent salute.

"Lend me a spyglass, would you?" the queen asked delicately, eyes still fixed on the smoke as she held out a hand.

The knights rummaged noisily in their armour and plonked two in her hand at once. Unable to grasp them, one rolled off her palm and smashed on the flagstones. Garnet rolled her eyes and the knights blanched, stuttered, tried to clear it up in unison and crashed their helmets together with a clang.

Garnet ignored them and tuned her eyeglass to the outskirts of the town. After a moment she uttered a light curse under and snapped the contraption shut. She could make out nothing; the crooked architecture of Alexandria impeded her sight. She would have to climb higher.

She turned on her heel and headed back to the castle, chucking the spyglass over her shoulder and hearing the knights scrabble to snatch it. Down she went, then up again, up and up, climbing the west tower which loomed imperiously over her domain.

At its peak, she found Steiner and Beatrix, heads bowed close and speaking in hushed tones, though they were clearly unaccompanied. They looked up, then turned in surprise.

Steiner saluted.

"Your Majesty." Beatrix appraised her form. "Can you not sleep?"

"That matters not," Garnet told her, crossing the space to lean daringly over the rough brickwork. She squinted into the distance. "What happens over there?"

"It could be nothing," Steiner said. "Some roaming bandits starting brawls, no doubt."

"A fight?" Garnet said.

"A little one," Beatrix said. "Nothing to concern yourself with."

"A fight is a fight, General, no matter how small."

The queen looked across and studied a clot of civilians fending the outskirts of Alexandria. From her inept vantage point she could discern no weapons to be particularly threatening, their primary form of attack seemed to be wild gestures.

Their 'attackers' seemed concerned and lingered in huddles on the edges of the fray, some daring foes making a mad rush to push through sometimes, to no avail.

"Has a patrol been sent?" Garnet asked.

"I have dispatched a squadron," Beatrix said. "They should arrive at the scene soon."

"I have a bad feeling about this," Garnet muttered and descended the stairs to await a report.

iii.

When the Alexandrian soldiers appeared in uniformed squads between the cracks of houses, swords drawn but cocked in an unthreatening manner, many of the attackers fled, terrified. The soldiers did not pursue.

Some, in a confusing display, threw themselves at the soldier's feet and begged to be let into Alexandria. They were arrested and sent to the castle's dungeons, where they were interrogated with Steiner present. There was no need for torture; they readily parted with any information Steiner required.

Steiner was at his queen's feet not two hours after their initial capture, bowing deeply and a thin crease on his forehead the only outward sign of worry.

"What news?" Garnet asked.

She'd been dressed appropriately now, in a gown of crushed velvet. Her hair was twisted into whirls and pinned to her head with pearl clasps. She sat on her throne feeling ill at ease. She'd wished to see the prisoners herself, but Beatrix had refused.

"Not good…" Steiner began grudgingly. "The prisoners bring troubling news from the eastern provinces of Alexandria. The plague has spread at an alarming rate. The people have become desperate. They have fled their hometowns in quest of for places yet untouched by the disease and have come to Alexandria seeking refuge."

A nervous snake coiled in Garnet's gut. "What of this plague?"

"They're calling it the Purple Death, your majesty, though we are yet to discover whether it has a previously given name."

"And the symptoms?"  
"Fever, chills, headaches… In the last hours there is a severe swelling of the glands and…" He paused, and collected himself. "Blood gathers near the surface of the skin in large quantities, causing large purple splotches to spread across the body. In the final hours, the skin splits and the victim perishes from bloodloss."

Garnet paled. "There is no cure then?"

"No, your majesty. None as of yet"

Garnet bit her lip and squeezed the arm of her throne. Her eyes darted unseeingly as her mind jounced from one prospect to another, none of them pleasant.

"Are the prisoners infected?" she asked.

Steiner shook his head.

Beatrix stepped forth. "If I may, Majesty, I believe it would be wise to seal the city immediately."

Garnet blanched. The thought had crossed her mind. "But the villages –"

"They will fall quickly and then the plague will be upon us."

"It is a cowardly thing to do!"

"It is necessary," the general persisted. "Hundreds are already dead, if the reports are accurate. Hundreds more could die if action is not taken instantaneously."

Garnet's thoughts fleeting flew to Dimitri, and then to her isolated civilians, ruled by a queen who had abandoned them in a time of need.

"How could we possibly seal the entire city?" Garnet asked. "I understand the rear can be defended by archers as it can be reached only by boat, and the harbour can easily be sealed, but what of the front and sides? There are not enough soldiers to protect the entire outskirts!"

Beatrix glanced at Steiner, who nodded. "We believe," she said, "Alexander may be able to help with such a thing. Perhaps if you sent a prayer to the eidolon He would aid sealing the city with a barrier?"

Garnet instinctively reached for the necklace that wasn't there and thought of it resting inside a glass box on a pedestal in the Grand Hall. Her fingers traced the sapphire pendants instead and she wondered what Zidane would do.

_He wouldn't abandon anyone,_ she thought bitterly. _But what choice do I have?_

"The plague must be stopped from spreading," Garnet consented. "I can't risk it spreading into the city and killing more people."

Her words trailed off, and then hesitantly, painfully, Garnet gave the word.

Alexandria was sealed.


	11. Finding The Middle Ground

Sorrrryy it took so long! I wish I could promise that updates will come faster but it's just not possible!

(Something random: it's always tickled me but I've never pointed it out… You know how in the game the character's heads turn to look at people in the room? Well, I noticed that Zidane only looks at pretty girls. He completely ignores men and older women. Obviously he looks at the main cast, but I just find it funny that he directs his attention at the girls, hee hee.)

Thank you again for the reviews and support, and I hope you enjoy this (short) chapter.

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**Chapter Eleven**  
Finding The Middle Ground

i.

"Utterly intolerable. Entirely unacceptable. Disrespect at a most grievous level."

Freya Crescent blanched at each scalding adjective in turn, one paw firmly on the partially closed door of her home while the other gripped its stony frame. She bowed her head, currently unprotected by her helm, and wisps of silver hair brushed against her muzzle.

"A thousand apologies," she said. "Truly, I… I cannot apologise enough for this injustice."

"If circumstances differed," the elderly Burmecian who ranted at her doorway proclaimed, "the consequences would be most grave, you understand."

"Of course."

"My outrage – and that of many Burmecians – is the only result of this transgression; this time I shall let such a disregard of law slip by unnoticed."

"You're most kind," Freya said, suggestively closing the door another inch. "It will not happen again, on my word as a Dragon Knight."

The elderly male looked as if he was about to continue, but Freya closed the door as hastily as politeness allowed, and his tirade was cut short.

Fur stirring uneasily, she lingered on the other side until his angry grunts became fading footsteps, until she heard nothing but the patter of a steady rainfall, and then she pressed her back to the door, eyes trailing to the ceiling as she silently uttered a prayer of thanks to Reiss.

Yet her pious relief lasted only a heartbeat. Her gaze dropped and raked a turbulent path across the room ahead, a neat kitchen with a cosy arrangement of pots, pans and herbs, opening out to a small dining area where a wooden table cradled a vase of native flowers.

Her gaze blazed across the kitchen and came to rest on a snake poking its head out the crack of a half open cupboard. She stormed over in a heartbeat and gave it a savage yank, whereupon the door blundered open and the furry snake brought with it Zidane Tribal.

"Yee-oucch!" he yelped as he fell backward onto the flagstone floor. "What was that for!?"

"Hiding from your crimes wont shield you from retribution, you wretched monkey!"

"I was hiding from _you_ actually…"

"What were you thinking!?" she thundered. "This is a holy city and the punishment for theft is a one way trip to the gallows!"

"I couldn't help myself! It was right there in front of me and he wasn't paying any attention –"

"You paid an innocent Burmecian child to distract the stall owner for you!"

"And it was working too… How did he _know_?"

Freya flicked her ears pointedly.

"Oh."

"Oh indeed. What's the matter with you? The only reason you escaped reckoning was because of your name and my reputation!"

"Old habits die hard," Zidane joked with a grin, and for his efforts Freya slammed the cupboard door on his tail.

"YYAAAH – OO_OWW!!"_

"It's the least you deserve," she rebuked scathingly, then approached the stove. "Tea?"

Zidane sat up and cradled his bent tail, eyes watering as the pain sent tendrils of fire up his back. He croakily asked, "Again? Don't you drink anything else, woman?"

"Of course," she said, filling a kettle. "I drink water, and wine when the occasion demands it."

"Does the occasion demand it?"

"No. Tea will suit you nicely."

Zidane got unsteadily to his feet, grumbling and massaging the end of his tail, and stomped sulkily to the table and claimed a wooden seat.

For a moment, he relished the foreign sounds of Burmecia: the native's distant conversation, the constant bombardment of rain against a slate roof, the whistle of the kettle. His ears were keen and he had little to go on by sight anyway; the window in front of him was the barest of slithers, acknowledging a grey veil of light that turned the pretty flagstones into a dreary sort of craft. Yet there were some boons; only the slightest of chills penetrated its narrow works.

Zidane wrapped his throbbing tail around one leg chair and moodily inquired, "Have I outstayed my welcome?"

Freya didn't look up from pouring tea. "You outstayed your welcome the moment you arrived. What _is_ your adversity to doors?"

"Thought you'd appreciate a more grandiose entrance."

"Through my bedroom window?"

"Hey, if I'd known it was Frately in bed instead of you I would've used the damn door!"

"You're lucky he didn't skewer you."

Zidane gingerly touched the scrape across his throat where his acquaintance with Frately's spear had become abruptly personal. "Hmph. I could totally take him."

"I'm sure he'd adhere to your request."

"With two hands tied behind my back!"

"Don't push your luck."

"Blindfolded!"

Freya briskly placed his tea on the table and braced herself against his mischief as she took the seat opposite him and wrapped calloused paws around the teacup, waiting for it to cool. She let a silence hang between them while she scrutinised his countenance closely and he refused to meet her eye.

"Well?" she prompted.

"What?"

"Why are you here?"

"I told ya: I'm visiting!"

She was stonily silent for a moment, then she acquiesced, "Very well then. How's Garnet?"

"That was a sneaky manoeuvre."

"Nonsense. I was merely inquiring the health of your significantly better half."

Zidane leaned forward, elbows propped on the table, and moodily sniffed his tea. "What's this?"

"Elderberry. Back on subject, please."

"She's fine."

"How does married life suit you?"

"Fine."

"…And the castle…?"

"Fine."

Freya sent him her most flinty look. "You really are quite the thorn in my side, aren't you?"

Zidane grinned wickedly. "As I said, old habits die hard."

"Indeed." She sipped her tea, eyes impossibly shrewd. "Very well. If you refuse to tell me the reasons behind your unexpected intrusion then I suppose I'll have to guess. Now, let's see. The possibility of you visiting on a purely social basis has been ruled out in my mind because of your sudden mood swings and unsubtle wont to avoid particular questions. Undoubtedly, there's something wrong, and judging by the particularities of your mood swings it has to do with Garnet."

"If you're trying to be funny –"  
"But _here's_ the predicament," Freya interrupted, holding up a claw. "Why would you have left in such bad humour? Despite your less-than-scrupulous nature I know your feelings are true and you would never do anything unjust toward Garnet. Heavens help you if you did, because I'd be the first with a blade at your throat."

"You're really annoying, you know that?"

"So I get the impression she's done something that's upset you. But what? Not the arranged marriage scenario, surely? You dealt with that yourself, as we all saw. Then the root of this argument must stem –"

Zidane slammed his hands on the table. "Fine fine! I'll bloody tell you if you just shut up!"

Freya grinned widely. "Oh, ruin my fun, wont you?"

The genome slouched into his chair, arms crossed. "She wont let me live in the castle 'cause it'll destroy who I am so I have to find a place to live and go travellin' in the meantime before she has a nervous breakdown. Happy now?"

"There, was that so hard? Now drink your tea before it gets cold. And you can't live here."

Zidane blanched despite himself. "I don't wanna _live_ here. I just need a place to crash for a while."

"Absolutely not."

"Wwhhhyyy?"

"Well, I might have considered it if not for the fiasco with the stall owner this morning. Have you spoken to Baku?"

"Naw… He'll just beat me up again."

"Perhaps that's for the best, it might knock your brain back into place."

"Hmph."

Freya sipped her tea. "I can't tell you what to do, though I'll admit it's somewhat of a dilemma. In the end, it comes down to where your heart is."

"Where my heart is…?" Zidane repeated uncertainly. "Well I…"

"Can you see yourself dressed in the finery of noblemen, spending your days in leisure and being attended?"

"No…"

"Unfortunately, there's going to be sacrifices. You can't marry a queen and expect to continue leading the life of a vagrant. Garnet will never give up the throne, and you can never stop being you, so where is the middle ground?"

Zidane slumped further into the chair, expression miserable. "But I love her…"

Freya stood up and collected her empty teacup and his full one. "Sleep on it. Things always look brighter in the morning." She dumped the crockery in the sink and left him with his thoughts.

ii.

As to be expected, it was raining. It came down hard and heavy in fat bullets, like some obtrusive magic. Clouds blistered the heavens and the rain was an unpleasant brume across a landscape darkened by night. In the distance, thunder grumbled a muffled threat of worse things to come.

Irritated by his master's immobility, Choco shook his feathery mane and trilled. Droplets scattered in a miniature explosion, but their efforts made little difference to both bird and master, whom were drenched to their respective skins.

Zidane was unbothered by the rain. His clothes either clung unpleasantly or sagged in heavy clumps, and a pool of water had collected at the heels of his boots. Yet his mind was too clouded to be bothered by the literal clouds above. He spared a moment to reassuringly pat Choco's neck before urging him on across the wet grasslands surrounding Burmecia, onward on his ambiguous journey.

She'd wanted him to sleep on it, but he couldn't.

He didn't know where he was going. Revisiting the places of his past, he supposed. Places where he could think. Come to some kind of conclusion. He didn't want to be around Freya anymore; he didn't care to burden her already stressful life with his problems. Though seeing her had done a wonder of good. She had been right, afterall. His heart was in two places at once, torn between lifestyle and love, stubbornness and acceptance.

Having another person in his life, one that meant the world to him and whose decisions effected his own, made life-changing evaluations suddenly alarmingly difficult. He remembered his past predicaments, tethering on the edge of some radical dilemma, and how they could be solved with a simple yes or no, guided by impulsive instead of deep consideration. He remembered becoming a bandit, the simple answer to Baku's unspoken question, of leaving Tantalus to follow Garnet, of returning to Iifa to find his brother.

And this problem seemed so insignificant compared to those. To stay or to leave; to adhere to Garnet's request or to firmly claim his place at her side. Make her happy or make himself happy.

A tiny voice in the back of his mind tried to reconcile: he could go back to Tantalus, Boss would beat the shit clean out of him but he'd had worse (a brief flash of that hazy battle on the brink of pure obliteration, looking up at the stony, winged god of nothing and how, after fighting until the movements were robotic and razor-dangerous, he had spat blood for days after). Boss would let him rejoin. Blank would talk him into it, or Cinna… or Marcus. They had each other's backs; always had done. It would be like the good ol' days, except –

Except.

He could not live with himself if he left her again. He could not forget. Regret would be his lover, companion and destruction. Dagger would accept it, but her face and name would hound his every waking and sleeping breath. In the newspapers of Lindblum, in the historical and fairytale accounts already being scripted, in the implausible turrets of Lindblum castle, the juddering old ships that coughed through the city's sky, in the snow-capped peaks of every icy mountain, in the feathers of Choco and in every looking-glass he would undoubtedly try to avoid. As cliché as it sounded, he had fallen hard, and the memories would remain after he was long gone.

As Freya said, there had to be a middle ground. It was just a matter of finding it.

iii.

Regardless of his troubles, he found the trek invigorating. Or perhaps 'trek' wasn't the right word, as a whole continent passed beneath Choco's clawed feet in the space of a week, and sometimes a way beneath him, when the whim to fly took Zidane. Choco was fast and neither mountain nor lake could hinder the path of his adventure. Though 'adventure' was not the right word, either, as monsters were few and far between; Mage Masher remained sheathed at his side, and the lack of company left him bored at times. He encountered no one and stopped no where, tracing Alexandria's mountainous borders and remembering days when the Mist was so thick one sometimes had to links hands with fellow travellers lest one got lost. Just for some fleeting company, he even called on the moogles to help him set up camp using the old flute he still tunelessly manipulated (though he remembered entertaining the old entourage round campfires with it, driving the local moogles insane but making the kids and Dagger laugh, so it was kind of worth it).

Such isolation gave him a lot of time to think, but time doesn't necessarily provide fruitful conclusions, so when he came within range of Treno he decided to seek more vocal companionship, and steered Choco in its direction.

Treno was one of Zidane's all-time favourite cities, especially in his early teens, because the booze was cheap, the law was lax and there were more brothels than the city knew what to do with. Treno was split into a very perceptible divide: the devastatingly poor and the devastatingly rich. Tantalus went to Treno to score big time hits (and to score in general) as the various mansions choking Treno's upper reaches were hampered with riches, and the thieves were happy to ease this unfortunate taxation of wealth, then spend it on the grimy luxuries the city had to offer.

It was nightfall. A fitting time to arrive at the city of darkness (though its name was earned by the mountain's perpetual shadow that fell across its gothic turrets), which was a dark smear against a darker background. However, Zidane's keen eyes picked out little dots of flame at the city's main entrance, and he reined Choco toward them curiously. They were undoubtedly campfires, though why someone would camp directly outside a city was beyond him.

As the distance between Choco and the city lessened, it became evident that there was more than one fire lit around its entrance. A higgledy mess of tents were pitched on the plains outside, at least a hundred, Zidane estimated, and guarding the front gates were several platoons of Alexandrian soldiers. They lined the walls too, and judging by their number, Zidane guessed almost the entire force stationed at Treno were out, apparently guarding the city.

As he breached the encampment he was flocked by children and adults alike, drawn to the rare golden chocobo and its tailed owner. A low murmur rippled through the crowd and Zidane belatedly wondered if causing such a commotion was a good idea. He dismounted, but kept Choco close.

"Hey," Zidane addressed the closest man. "What's going on?"

The man in question looked tired and desperate. There was a hungry glint in his eye that unsettled Zidane, a kind of fraught desolation that lingered precariously on the edge of panic. Glancing round, he noted those surrounding shared a similar expression and Mage Masher became a comfortable presence at his side.

"What d'ya mean?" the man said. "Aren't ya here t' get in?"

"To Treno?" Zidane said. "Well, sure. Can't you get in?"

The man glanced at his fellows uneasily, then rounded a suspicious glare at the genome. "What hole d'ya crawl out of, son? 'Course we can't get in. No one can. They've sealed the entire city."

"What? Why?"

"Plague," the man replied shortly, and gestured toward the mountains. "We've been dumpin' the bodies yonder. Burnin' them during the day. Aint no one comin' in or outta Treno, but where are we meant to go? Villages infected, cities infected. The plague is dying out already, but we need medicine and food now."

Zidane blanched back despite himself. He had lived through a plague in Lindblum, ten years earlier. He had been young then and remembered few things: the stink of rotting corpses littering the streets and the beating Boss gave him for trying to sneak outside. They'd been stuck in for weeks, Boss using all his contacts to scrounge food and then some, and they had still nearly all starved anyway.

Uneasily, Zidane's gaze raked the crowd. The press of possible infection was suffocating, but he refused to shy away.

"I had no idea," he admitted. "I've been in Burmecia. How long has this been going on for?"

"A few weeks. It's spread through all the Alexandrian provinces."

Zidane cried out in dismay. "Alexandria!? What about the castle!?"

The man snorted. "Hmph. The town is sealed right off. We've been forsaken, left to die like rats. Can't rely on those bastard royals for anything. I'm not surprised there's been attacks on the place; I'd be there myself if I didn't have a family to take care of." He paused. "Y'know what I heard? There's some disturbance brewin' in the east. Sealing off Alexandria weren't such a good idea, eh? Our traitor queen is gonna be right sorry when this is through."

Zidane was too mortified to take the man's insults in bad humour. His mind had wandered to Dagger, handling the crisis alone, no doubt trapped in the castle, frightened and fretful. He had promised to stay by her side but when she needed him most he had left, and with that revelation it all suddenly fell into place, and he found his middle ground.

With a smooth jump he remounted Choco, who caught whiff of his master's disposition and squawked eagerly, raking the air with his claws. Zidane's pulse pumped wildly in his ears, heart constricting with guilt and fury. Briefly, his gaze swept the devastated civilians and returned to the man.

"Good luck," he said. "Don't worry, the queen will make sure you're all looked after once the worst has died down."

"Where you goin'?"

"Alexandria!" Zidane yelled, and before the man could raise objections Zidane tapped Choco lightly with his ankle and the great bird charged through the startled, dying crowd. He jumped clumsily, jumped again, and then left the plains completely, rising with the sound of awed gasps and beating wings into the dark night, like some celestial being returning to the heavens.


	12. Separation

**Check me out with the quick update! Ho yeah. **

**Btw, this isn't the main plotline. As said before, there is no plot in general, just a series of short stories that might have been their future post-game. Once this plot thread is out the way, the fic takes an entirely different turn. **

**Read and hopefully enjoy, folks!**

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**Chapter Eleven  
**Separation

i.

Garnet slouched into her chair; a dismal sigh escaping otherwise pursed lips. Her attention was drawn to a vast array of food sending colourful aromas into the dining hall's arched eaves; plates scattered on a table too long for one person, they bore the fruits of Quina's labour, enough to fill ten men and then some. All for her.

She wasn't stupid. Though they locked her away in the castle – her prison and her home – and would not even grant her leave from the main building to walk the canals (nor anyone who directly attended her care, save Beatrix and Steiner), she insisted on receiving blunt and proper reports, and even without those she only needed to glance out her chamber window to register the damage.

People were starving. People were starving outside and they were starving inside. And here she was with a banquet for breakfast.

It made her feel sick.

She sat up and pushed a plate away. It was a childish gesture born from frigid rage and frustration, and the plate skidded some way before juddering to a stop. A nearby servant glanced askance.

"Is the food not to your liking, Your Majesty?"

The pomposity of the question grated her sensitivity, but he was only being presumptuous, so she spared him. Instead, she proclaimed, "If my kingdom cannot eat, then neither shall I."

It was self-punishment, she thought immediately after. And perhaps a tad self-pitying. But it was the least she deserved for isolating her castle from her kingdom's burden. However, it didn't quell the guilt that thickened her blood and ate her soul. She was a terrible queen, or so she had convinced herself, and even if she was prepared to eat this feast she had no appetite for it anyway.

"Put it outside," she said. "Give it to my kingdom. Why is this precious food being wasted on me? Give it to the children, to the workers, to the bloody cats and dogs! Gods know even the rats deserve it more than me."

Baffled by this outburst, the servant floundered for a moment, hands behind his back and eyes uncertain. "Am I to understand that it is Your Majesty's wish to have this food taken into the town?"

"Yes," she confirmed. "Don't sell it. It's free. From now on I shan't take my meals to schedule. I'll eat when I'm hungry."

_Though I'm never hungry,_ Garnet thought ruefully. _But giving them this gift might make a difference, if only a small one._

The servant adhered to her order, albeit with an air of perplexity. The plates were removed one by one and returned the kitchens. She made a mental to note to track the order later, in case the servants decided to throw it away of their own accord. As for Quina, h/she wouldn't be mad as long as someone was eating the food, though heavens knew the Qu had been moaning enough about lack of ingredients, which Garnet found baffling considering h/she had lived on nothing but frogs for the majority of his life.

There was no way round it though. Garnet had successfully prevented the spread of plague into Alexandria's capital, but at dyer costs. Those residents who had been caught outside the barrier were separated from their families. Food was rationed and running desperately short. Outside, large crowds of people camped hopelessly, resigned to being outcasts as they waited for the barrier to disappear. Garnet was unsettled by their anger, and heartbroken by their desolation. In truth, they stayed on the borders involuntarily, their villages being stricken and abandoned; nowhere to go and nowhere to return to, they were left with little choice but to remain.

Garnet left the dining hall with shoulders drooped and expression morose. She made for her offices and stationed the guards outside so she could conjure an illusion of privacy while she delved through her thoughts and concentrated on papers.

Drawing her high-backed chair toward the desk, she skimmed reports that offered good news. The plague was fading away, they said; it had stopped spreading across the continent thanks to the order to seal the larger cities and borders, and fewer new cases were reported daily. Many predicted it would be gone entirely within a week or so, though not without leaving a trail of substantial damage. The larger towns to the east had been the first to fall, though it was rumoured the common populace received the worst of the devastation while the nobility and soldiers sheltered within their uncontaminated mansions and castles. Garnet kindled the hope Dimitri had survived, though she had received no word from those provinces of her kingdom for many days.

Regent Cid had sent her a letter via mognet, as the moogles were unaffected by the plague and sending people was too risky. He had seemed genuinely concerned for her safety and the security of the throne given past and present circumstances, though apologetically informed her he could not risk sending aid immediately as his own borders were closed to prevent the spread of disease.

It was understandable and Garnet hadn't taken the decision personally, but it made the responsibilities of her stature a heady concoction of anxiety.

And despite the overall displeasure of the populace, her thoughts returned to Zidane, always. It was a worry she tried to put aside but his safety hounded her every waking second and the guilt made short work of her already frayed sensibilities. Was he angry that she had segregated herself from the rest of the kingdom? Did he feel abandoned, like the rest of her populace? Was he even… alive?

The alternative was too much to bear – not worth a moment's consideration. Zidane could survive things no normal man could endure, but fighting a sickness was entirely different. And the moment she regretted sending him away was the moment she would berate herself for such selfish admonishments.

But in the end, she had to admit it was hard living without him.

ii.

At some point past the second bell of the afternoon (its lonesome tolling ringing forlorn across the isolated peaks of Alexandria), Beatrix entered the office without knocking, her eye betraying considerable trepidation.

"What's wrong?" Garnet said.

Beatrix saluted. "There has been a battle between the Veluccia Province and the Arcacia Province."

Garnet leapt from her seat, a startled "_What_!?" shattering any illusion of composure she might have forged.

"Our reports are hazy," Beatrix admitted, "as they are from the mouths of moogles, but it seems farmers and civilians from the affected Veluccia Province were effecting cattle raids on their neighbours. The situation became desperate… and then bloody. The moogles claim many letters were sent between Duke Dimitri and Duke Wrayan to reconcile the situation, but they were largely ineffective. In the end… Duke Wrayan gathered his forces and marched on Veluccia."

Garnet raised a hand to her forehead, feeling her already fragile grip on Alexandria unravelling at a frightening rate.

"Your Majesty," Beatrix continued grimly, "Duke Wrayan has fallen and… Dimitri has claimed his seat as Duke of Arcacia."

"But… they can't mobilize the troops without my permission! They can't just… can't just start… start _fighting_ like that!" Garnet bleated in despair. "How could they do that!?"

Beatrix shook her head. "They fought in the name of the queen, both claiming it would be your wish to see their own provinces defended."

"I would wish no such thing!" Garnet cried. "And now… now…" She paused, realisation an unpleasant addition to her despair. "Dimi… he has half of Alexandria's forces under his wing! Would he… would he do anything…?"

Beatrix sighed, flicking her locks absently and turning a pensive gaze to the window, scanning the horizon. "It is… difficult to deduce his plans in our current state. The troops stationed in his province will do as he demands while Alexandria is shut off, and as demoralized as they undoubtedly are, they will be easily swayed to turn against the throne."

Garnet fell back into her seat. "A rebellion, then? He will attempt to dethrone me while the capital is weakest?"

"It is a possibility. Though of course he will try nothing while the Alexander's shield protects the city and the inhabitants within."

"Protects me, you mean," she corrected bitterly. "That is not worth thinking of, anyway. The barrier must be removed within a few days before the citizens starve." She glanced up at the general worriedly. "Am I so unpopular now? Are the outer towns and villages so angry with me?"

Beatrix shook her head. "They are desperate and dispirited. No doubt Dimitri has easily swayed their vote with false promises and lies."

Garnet stood and drifted to the window, her brow wrinkled and her eyes glassy. "It will be war," she observed quietly. "The most awful kind. Alexandrian soldiers fighting Alexandrian soldiers, kin fighting kin. I can't let that happen. There must be a way!"

Beatrix remained silent.

"We've already lost so many to the plague. Further death is not the answer!"

"You acted accordingly, Your Majesty," the general reassured. "You acted the way kings and queens have done in years past. Even your father ordered the city to be sealed, though he lacked the magic to do so entirely. It is the… current affairs that turn the tides."

"Zidane, you mean?"

"Yes… The plague had… unfortunate timing."

Garnet paused, her stare becoming resolute as she surveyed the mountains, the plains and the city that sprawled beneath her. "I wont let him," she said. "I wont let him. Even if it means… means war… leads to the deaths of my own, mutinous troops… I cannot give up my throne. Not without a fight."

"I'll defend you with my life," Beatrix said with a dutiful salute, then left Garnet alone too quickly to hear her whispered, "I hope not…"

iii.

Two bells later, Garnet was disturbed once again from her work, though truthfully she wasn't working at all. The paperwork had been signed and sorted and she could only harry over the unsolvable prospect of starving citizens for so long before the circles her mind twirled in became a rather weighty headache.

So it was almost a welcome distraction when the furry-pink ball that was Mene somersaulted through the window, became tangled in the curtains then dropped to the ground in a squeaking knot of silk.

"Eeep, help, I'm being attacked, kupo!"

Garnet left her chair and carefully unwrapped the curtain-present until Mene's face popped into view, bouncing pom-pom first and blazing, beady eyes second. Garnet couldn't apprehend a giggle.

"Ooh, you put that there on purpose!" Mene accused. "Damn moogle-traps."

"They're not traps, they're curtains," Garnet told him frankly. "And you're more than welcome to use the doors."

"No," he disagreed without explanation. "I need to make complaint to you, kupo."

Garnet stood, letting Mene wriggle from the remaining material alone. She rolled her eyes and threw up her hands, then crossed the room and collapsed upon a couch (unintentionally mirroring Zidane's less-than-royal method of mounting furniture).

"Doesn't everyone?" she declared. "What's wrong? Run out of kupo nuts?"

"Yes, actually," the moogle said, freeing himself from the curtains and fluttering to her desk. "But I have another complaint too, kupo."

"Indulge me."

"There's invisible wall outside," the moogle said, then as the recollection returned so did his passion. "_Invisible_ _wall_! Who would build that, kupo!? There I was minding my own business thinking about how I'm gonna get some kupo nuts from that no-good Moguo – 'cause he steals them, yknow – when _bam_! my nose gets smooshed by big fat stupid invisible wall. Kupo."

"…Mene, there's a hole at the top for moogles to get in and out through."

"You know about this wall!?" the moogle shrieked incredulously.

"I put it there."

"Well. Well, kupo," he started, clearly ruffled by the admission. "Well… T-take it down right _now_!"

"It'll be gone in three days," Garnet told him decisively. "I can't wait longer than that…"

"Three daaayyys!?" Mene whined. "But that's… that's _forever_!"

"What's your hurry, anyway? You can just fly through the hole."

"It's not about me, stupid!" he fumed, jumping up on down on his slender paws. "It's _Choco_! He can't get in! Kupo!"

Garnet leapt from the couch. "Choco!? Choco's back!?"

"Yes, stupid-head! He's waiting outside and can't get –"  
"Is Zidane with him!?"

"I don't care about him! I want my buddy back, kupo!"

Garnet took that as affirmative, then thought quickly. There was no way Beatrix or Steiner would let her leave the castle, even if they had to physically restrain her. But perhaps if she lost the guards…?

Knowing every second wasted was a second Zidane might leave again, she kicked off her shoes and exited the office with exaggerated composure. The guards saluted and followed, as was their duty, granting Mene a look of bafflement as he flew close to Garnet's right shoulder, bellowing outrage.

"Where are you going, kupo!? You better make that invisible wall go away right now! Choco'll be hungry and scared!"

"You're the one that's hungry and scared, Mene," she answered evenly, keeping her head high and her outward demeanour calm. Her mind was thinking fast, leaping from one possibility to another, until a sudden proposal cut through the anarchy. She had no time to wonder if it would work, nor even time to hope.

Garnet made her way to the kitchens, where the guards inevitably stopped her.

"Your Majesty, shall we send for a chef?"

"Nooo," she said in a sing-song, thoughtful tone. "I wish to request something quite specific. Do stay here while I speak to them, wont you? To guard the entry?"

The guards saluted and claimed a place either side of a door slick from the steam radiating within. Garnet hid her smirk and entered the kitchen beyond, Mene quiet at her side with sudden curiosity.

Inside, there was an orderly chaos. While to Garnet it looked like a mad, undirected labyrinth of noise, bubbling pans of soup, roasting meats and chopped vegetables, it was flawlessly timed and overseen by the Head Chef and his underlings, and in a desperate bid to flee the castle, it was the former she had come to see.

The chefs stopped cooking for a stunned moment as the queen floated past in white silk and delicate pearls, but their passions were in their hands, and they continued cooking with only a few backward glances and deferential nods.

However, the Head Chef cared little for the disruption, and turned to face her with a vengeance.

"What you want? It not time to serve yummy-yummies yet, you want uncooked? You want not perfect?"

Garnet glanced round to make sure their conversation went unheard, then leaned close to the Qu. "Quina, I need you to get me out of the castle."

"I busy."

"Quina, _please_. Zidane is outside and I need to –"

"Zidane outside? What he do there? Very dangerous place."

"Yes, I know. That's why I need to see –"

"Have you got any kupo nuts?" Mene impeded. "I want kupo nuts!"

"That moogle delicacy," Quina snapped. "No pet food in here. Kupo nuts not yummy for people."

"But I want ssommmeee."

"Mene!" Garnet snapped. "I'll give you kupo nuts later. Quina, please. I don't have much time. You must understand, Zidane… he…"

"You no explain," the Qu said, putting down the fork h/she had been using to stir some ambiguous broth. "I get supplies. You come. Carry potatoes."

Garnet sighed in relief, though the panic still sharpened her eyes to burning embers. "Yes, yes! Please!"

Quina gestured to a cupboard. "You put on apron and hat. Hurry up else broth burn."

"Um…" But Garnet decided not to question whether the Qu knew how serious their plan was, and went to the cupboard. She found some waiting attire there, just canvas breeches and a baggy cotton shirt, and she did indeed don an apron and hat, tucking away her long locks. Every passing moment felt as fatal as blood trickling from a deep wound.

Quina was waiting outside. It seemed the chefs had been somewhat enlightened to their plan (or at least threatened if even a word was uttered of it) as they pointedly ignored the commonly dressed girl emerging from the cupboard. However, Quina said nothing of the matter and seemed in more of a hurry to purchase potatoes than Garnet was to see Zidane; he practically pushed her out the door.

Outside, they skirted the castle's walls using a well-worn path worked by servants on errands. The guards that patrolled the walls above either ignored the pair or didn't notice them at all as their path was neither questioned nor obstructed. Mene fluttered at her side, muttering angrily under his breath and casting wary glares toward the invisible wall above them.

Garnet had felt guilty while praying to Alexander. She had insisted she undertake the petition alone, withdrawing to her chamber, where she prayed for two days and two nights until Alexander finally deemed her a voice worthy of His attentions – or at least forgave her for abandoning Him for an extended period of time. In the ancient language of an extinct race, she pleaded for His aid and in the end Alexander remained faithful to the town He had protected years beforehand.

The barrier rose from the ground as iridescent as a rainbow, capturing Alexandria in an ethereal dome, translucent and unbreakable, its presence betrayed by the loveliest of blue sheens that the sun caught and burst into a spray of aquamarine slivers. Yet the material was ambiguous; rain and sun passed through its boundaries uninhibited, despite the fact no person could break nor venture through its bulk, nor could sound penetrate its surface.

Garnet could barely discern it now if she glanced at the unblemished sky. It filled her with both pride and disgust; it tore her conscience into two.

They came to a side gate that was heavily guarded. Garnet tilted her head downward, hoping these soldiers had not seen her so close as to recognise her without her usual attire and tumbling locks.

"State your business," the guard trilled dutifully, though she looked as if she knew already; Quina was rather recognisable, after all.

"Out of way!" Quina barked. "I buy potatoes!"

The guards exchanged amused looks, then stepped aside. Garnet slipped past and just when she'd stepped over the boundary of royal grounds and into the common streets a hand grabbed her slender arm and yanked her back. She yelped in surprise, almost losing her footing, and instinctively yelled, "Get off me, you scumbag!"

"Scumbag?" the guard who held her repeated. "Where do you get off talking to me like that, eh?"

Garnet bit down the impulse to reprimand this belligerent beast, but remembered Zidane, and swallowed it. "I-I'm sorry, you startled me."

"Hmph," the guard said, eyes flinty beneath the lip of her helm. "And what's your business outside the castle walls?"

"She carry potatoes," Quina said matter-of-factly. "You let go. She my protégé."

Garnet's arm was beginning to hurt. She kept her eyes firmly on the ground, seething but frightened of being discovered, or at least prevented from leaving.

"You hinder the making of yummy-yummies!?" Quina fumed, genuinely angry. "I stake you with fork! I put you guts in stew!"

The guard released Garnet's arm, surrendering to Quina's reputation and his/her considerable bulk. "Fine, fine. But I need a name. Regulations and what not during the plague."

The guard stared pointedly at Garnet who met the gaze wide-eyed and stuttering. "Oh…ah… m-my name. Right. I'm… I'm… ah… Cornelia…"

"Cornelia what?"

"Cornelia… Gladius?"

A pause. "Cornelia Gladius," the guard repeated flatly.

"Yes."

"Rrright. Well, have fun carrying potatoes, Cornelia Gladius," the guard repeated with a smirk in her voice. She cast a surprised look at the moogle clinging to her shoulder and added, "… There's a moogle on your back."

"Yes, I know."

"Right. Well –"

"No time!" Quina yelled. "Go now!"

"Y-yes, chef!" Garnet barked, and tottered through the gate and into the cobbled revenues of her starving town.

iv.

The country bumpkins of southern Alexandria might not have recognised him, but those closer to home unfortunately did, and Zidane was having a hard time exploring the peculiar shield separating Alexandria from the rest of the world without being apprehended by a jabbering crowd.

"Prince Zidane, what should we do?"

"Please, my children are hungry…"

"Sire, please tell us what the queen intends to do about this!"

"We're starving!"

"I just want to go home!"

Zidane was also having a rather unpleasant initiation into being someone important, and while he sympathised with their plight and wished he could magically conjure food from nothing, his mind was tuned to nothing but Dagger.

"I'm sorry," he said, turning away from the transparent barrier to the civilians flocking him. "I don't know anymore than you do. But Dag – ah, Queen Garnet did what she thought was best."

Choco squawked in agitation as a citizen veered to close, tuned by some animal instinct to their frantic desperation. The woman dodged away in fear and Zidane grimaced, patted Choco reassuringly.

"Look, if I knew how to get in I'd tell you! But Garnet wasn't being unfair; it wasn't anything personal. I mean, she shut me out too! She's just protecting others from dying, don't you see?"

The cluster of refugees cast mournful gazes to the muddy turf, surrendering to their Prince Consort's words of bland reassurance and unable to argue his reasoning. While some returned to the countless others awaiting news, Zidane seized the moment to edge away, guiding Choco to the right as he slowly paced the outskirts of Alexander's craft.

There were others on the inside too, trapped behind enchanted glass, wistfully staring out or trying to break the unbreakable barrier. They looked dirty and downtrodden; Zidane reckoned food was running short and soon their starvation would turn to violence. Such a thing was inevitable; he and his brothers used to fight over the tiniest of scraps when food was short, a crust of bread poor conciliation for a busted lip and bruised eye.

Choco trilled suddenly, a noise of recognition and excitement. Zidane squinted left and spotted a moogle fluttering above the crowd, looking furious and concerned at once. It was Mene again, the thief recognised, who had answered Choco's shrill calls earlier and come to meet his old friend, only to smack his nose on the barrier, curse for some time, then disappear again.

Zidane sighed and dismounted. Choco paced at the barrier's crystalline frame, chirping in agitation.

Mene flew up to the glass – warily this time – then shouted at someone below, whose identity was lost in the small throng of people congregating near the magic's edge. Zidane scanned the faces curiously, and from between a demi-hippo and a portly gentleman squeezed a slender girl donned in chef's clothing.

Despite the attire, Zidane recognised her immediately.

"Dagger!" he yelled, slamming both hands flat against Alexander's shield. He hammered against its side fruitlessly, looking up and around in an impulsive attempt to find a way in.

Dagger ran the short distance to the edge and pressed her hands over his own, her skin rendered pale at the fingertips and palm as the blasted glass blessed not even an impression of warmth on the thief outside. She cocked her head sadly, her person not even a few inches from his own but entirely unattainable.

"Dagger…" he whispered miserably. "I'm sorry I left…"

Dagger's eyebrows creased slightly and she mouthed something he couldn't hear, couldn't understand. Alexander's spell deflected sound so he was to endure only the thought of her voice.

He shook his head hopelessly as she trailed a finger along the glassy surface, tracing imaginary lines on his face.

He carefully mouthed, "Can you lift the barrier now?"

She shook her head, then held up three fingers.

Zidane nodded and pressed his hands harder against the magic, thinking there had never been a worse kind of torture. "Don't worry, Dag. I wont let anything happen to you or your kingdom, I promise!"  
She smiled a bit, not understanding his words but reading the emotion behind his eyes, and she nodded, mouthed, "Be careful."

"I'll be here," he promised, and that much she understood.


	13. Attempted Negotiations

I LIIVVVEEE. I said this story wasn't on hiatus and I stayed true to my word! I'm just sooo stupidly busy atm. But I guess everyone needs a bit of time off, right? Wow, this story thread is almost drawing to a close! I think you'll like the next one too ;-) It's much more light hearted and 'Brick By Brick'-esque. I really hope y'all are enjoying Foundations so far!

Enjoy the chapter!

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen**  
Attempted Negotiations

i.

They came for her moments following their transient reunion and Garnet almost took down the barrier there and then if only to feel his touch before they dragged her away. And though her better senses prevailed, she couldn't tear her eyes from his until the last moment.

"Your Majesty!" There was a stony edge to Beatrix's hail, a crisp exasperation that left Garnet feeling mildly guilty. "What are you do – oh."

She stopped short of the couple separated by the transparent barrier and felt a twinge of remorse. Zidane glanced over Garnet's shoulder and offered a grin that didn't look quite right on his dirt-streaked face.

"Your Majesty…" Beatrix began again. "It is not safe out here. The people are restless and unpredictable; traces of the plague still remain. You must return to the castle."

Garnet's hair was hidden beneath a chef's cap, but dark strands broke free and a ghostly breeze whispered them over her shoulder. She did not turn for a moment and Zidane caught her gaze again, something unintelligible passing between them that left Beatrix feeling like an intruder.

Then Garnet turned her back on him, eyes cast downward, emotion hidden. "Yes. I know," she said. "Let's go."

To her credit, she didn't look back once.

ii.

"How did you find me?"

Beatrix cast her a look that was almost disdainful, but her smirk jaunted the bad humour aside as she simply stated: "Cornelia Gladius."

Garnet blushed. "I…I was put on the spot!"

"_Gladius_?"

"… It… was the first thing to come into my head other than Dagger…"

"Quite. Well, when the guards at the gates were questioned after your disappearance was reported, my suspicions were rather aroused by one Cornelia Gladius, and after the top watch spotted the Prince Consort on a white chocobo skirting the perimeter it was merely a matter of putting two and two together."

"I guess I was kind of obvious…" Garnet admitted.

"But your deviousness has been noted."

"You're upping the watch on me, aren't you?"

"It's a necessary precaution," Beatrix confirmed. "Those bumbling idiots can't keep an eye on their own two feet without them running away." She referred to the Pluto Knights. "You will see Zidane soon enough, anyway, when the barrier is down."

Garnet stirred at this, an unspoken premonition brewing clouds in her mind, though she dared not think on them too hard lest they came true. She said nothing, and waited patiently while Nell laced her bodice. Briar had returned her disguise to the kitchens, where the chefs were skittish and elusive.

"That Quina…" Beatrix rumbled. "He should not have been allowed-"

"Leave Quina out of this," Garnet snapped, then gently retracted, "He is a friend… he understands. And besides, s/he was merely following orders."

"H/she could have stayed with you to ensure your safety, at the very least!"

Garnet chuckled, recalling a time when Quina had left her alone in the brush to wash laundry, and Steiner's similar retribution. "She means well."

"Mmm," Beatrix evaded, and Garnet didn't doubt she had doubled the watch at every known entrance in and out of the castle's walls.

_So much for sneaking out again_, she thought miserably. Changing the subject, "I'm deeply concerned about being attacked. By the army, I mean. I don't want to wait until the barrier's down to discover any truth behind the rumours. I'd rather be prepared."

"A wise choice," Beatrix agreed with a nod. "We could have a moogle send a note to one of our spies currently located in Treno, and they could scout the area for us."

"Why bother with such a long winded procedure? The spy would take longer than three days to cross to the eastern provinces anyway. Just send a moogle."

"Your Majesty?"

"I'm sure Mene would oblige… with some form of prize at the end of it."

Beatrix shifted uncertainly. "The creature that sleeps in your bed…? But he is… How should I say…"

Garnet waved a hand. "There's no need; I'm fully aware of what he's like. But if there's something in it for him I'm sure he'd lend a hand – or paw – willingly enough."

"The moogles have always shied away from our politics… human affairs in general! They keep their own community, which lacks any kind of monarchy – or social hierarchy, for that matter."

"Is there any need for the moogle to have knowledge of politics? I merely want Mene to see if there's trouble brewing – an army waiting."  
Beatrix sighed. "…I suppose it might work… and a moogle wouldn't rouse suspicion…"

"Exactly!" Garnet exclaimed, darting forward just as Nell finished lacing, who harrumphed irritably at her mistress's mood. "It's the perfect plan! Even Zidane would be proud of me!"

"That's not necessarily a good thing…"

"I'll find Mene right away," Garnet busied. "The sooner we know of Dimi's plans the better. Meanwhile… maybe it's best we prepare the forces? Better to be safe than sorry, as father always said."

Beatrix saluted, somewhat relived to be returning to normal affairs, even if they were of a foreboding nature. "Yes, Your Majesty."

iii.

A bell later, Garnet stood in her gardens amidst the seasonal flora, arms crossed and tapping a foot impatiently as she waited for Mene to answer her summons. Traditionally, moogles never answered the summons of humans (unless one possessed a particular flute, but that rarity resided with a currently unattainable thief, and gods only knew where he had put it) but Garnet had laced her summons with bait and thrown it at a particularly greedy moogle, so now it was merely a matter of waiting.

She squinted into the distance, at the crest of the dome high above where a grey sky slicked the bubble chrome, turning its splendour hard and oily. Mene had just dropped through the hole at the top and was descending at quite a rate on frantic wings. She'd instructed the messenger to tell Mene to find her in the gardens, but the gardens of the castle were so vast she sent a little spiral of green-blue magic into the air just in case, and it fizzled sweetly twenty feet off the ground like a firework.

It did the trick. Mene made for her. She heard his huffing and puffing a good while before he landed on the grassy turf at her feet.

"Hello!" she greeted, kneeling to his eye level.

"Where… are… they…kupo?" came Mene's blunt greeting between breathless pants.

Garnet smiled sweetly and drew from her corset a kupo nut. "You mean this?"

"Gimmie!" Mene squealed, wriggling his paws. "You said if I came I could have kupo nut!"

"Mmm, so I did." She dangled the nut above the moogle enticingly. "Buuuttt… why have one kupo nut when you could have… say, ten?"

"Kupo?"

"Or… twenty?"

"Kupo!?"

"Or… _thirty_?"

"KUPOPO!?"

"I have them in a store room," Garnet said. "They were given to me by a noble. A rather… eccentric noble who decided I might like kupo nuts." Offhandedly she pondered, "I do wonder if Zidane had anything to do with it… But anyway. They're all yours."

"Ku-kupopo!? Y-you mean it!?"  
"Of course! _If_ you do something for me first."

Mene's stare was wary.

"Nothing big," Garnet sang. "All I want you to do is fly over Alacia Plains and see if there's a large group of people hanging around. Armies, you know, that sort of thing. Then come back and tell me what you've seen."

"That's it, kupo?"

Garnet nodded.

"…And… and then I'll have thirty kupo nuts?"  
"Then you'll have thirty kupo nuts."

Mene eyed the kupo nut in Garnet's hand. "Hmm… okay, kupo. But, um, it's a really big journey so I might need something to…"

Garnet rolled her eyes and threw the kupo nut into the air, which Mene caught with surprising dexterity then chomped through the outer shell with his incisors and devoured the soft nut inside with a satisfied purr.

"You need to be back by tomorrow, by the way," Garnet added while Mene licked crumbs from his paws.

"Yeah, yeah."

"I'm serious."

"Okay! I'm going right now, kupo. And those kupo nuts better be ready for me when I get back!"

"They will be. Be safe, Mene!"

The creature harrumphed then took off, beating wings taking him to the crest of Alexander's spell and then through and out.

Garnet watched until Mene descended and was lost between the rooftops, then went to oversee the preparations for war.

iv.

"I'm taking Choco," Mene told Zidane not five minutes later.

Zidane tossed aside the core of an apple he'd been eating. His tail flicked once in slight curiosity. "Why?"

"Because I say so, that's why, kupo!" the moogle retorted bluntly. "I'll feel safer with him around."

"Where are you going?"

The moogle sniffed, then settled on Choco's back, who cocked an inquisitive eye at his fluffy companion. "I'm not really sure," Mene admitted. "Um… over there? Across some plains, kupo. She said to look nearby."

"'She'? Dagger?" His interest immediately perked. "Why? What did she say?"

"To look, kupo!" he squeaked impatiently. "For lots of people hiding and if I do that she'll give me thirty kupo nuts! She better do, kupo, or else I'll… I'll… put… give… take… Well that's not important yet, I'll think of something later. Move out the way, kupo, we're leaving!"

"I'm coming too," Zidane said and jumped onto Choco's back. "Wherever it is you're going, anyway. Can't you be more specific?"

"Lots of people, kupo," Mene said, wriggling in irritation as Zidane's much larger form accommodated most of the chocobo's back.

"Like an army?" he suggested, catching on.

"Maybe."

Zidane scanned the restless crowd of refugees camped on the perimeter of Alexandria. He'd maintained some distance from them in case remnants of the dwindling plague still remained. Though it felt as though he was avoiding something of his duty as prince, and he didn't like abandoning people in general, he wouldn't be any use to the kingdom if he became ill. He'd help them after, one by one if need be, but currently it was more important to deal with the bigger issues, and he wasn't a doctor anyway.

"Alright, we'll start over at Alacia plains," he said. "Dagger said Dimitri was duke of the Veluccia province, which is east of here, I think. Let's fly, Choco!"

The bird chirped in what could have been acknowledgement or excitement and instinctively made for the nearest thicket of trees across a small lake, and from there he navigated a flight path into the grey sky.

The land below became a sprawling rug of patchwork texture, a palette of brown and green intersected sporadically by rivers and marshes, and the mountains rose up around them like gods overseeing their craft. As they flew on, the slithery clouds cracked and a thin drizzle made their flight uncomfortable, yet sky was free of air traffic as crossing borders was currently forbidden; the way was empty as far as the eye could see.

They flew over a smattering of villages that looked abandoned. They saw little signs of life, but often spotted mass graves. Travellers snaked across the landscape in higgledy lines, their goods tied onto the backs of farm chocobos while those less fortunate made do with their hands. The world looked grim and dismal.

They flew on and on, the drizzle soaking clothes, feathers and fur, and eventually they came to Alexandria's far eastern provinces and a rather notable anomaly in the landscape's texture.

Zidane wiped rain from him eyes once, twice, then cursed heartily. "Oh, fuck me."

A sea of tents swamped the base of a mountain, initially unordinary to behold until one noticed Alexandria's emblem stitched into the canvas. These were no ordinary tents; they were tents used for military excursions. There must have been at least two hundred, and with every tent being able to man four or five soldiers –

"That's a lot of people, right?" Mene squeaked.

Zidane nodded dumbly. "Yup."

"So we can go back now and tell her, kupo? And I can get my kupo nuts."

Zidane thought for a moment, then turned his expression resolute and prompted Choco to descend.

"What are you doing!?" Mene yelled, turning in his feathery seat to glare at the genome. "Alexandria is back _that_ way, kupo!"

"I know," Zidane said, and landed Choco on the outskirts of the army encampment.

v.

The men and women of Garnet's rogue army seemed pretty unoccupied. Disheartened by the grim weather, they sat in small groups in and out of their tents playing cards, eating or sparring. Military drills were notably absent and the scouts didn't seem particularly attentive either, which made Zidane wonder if there was a person with military knowledge leading them at all. But he quickly corrected himself. Underestimating one's enemy was often a lethal mistake. To muster the devotion of this many trained soldiers must be the doing of someone who had earned their respect in battle previously – as far as Zidane knew Dimitri could be a skilled swordsman.

Zidane dismounted and patted Choco's neck. "Be back in a sec, buddy. Don't go anywhere, okay? I reckon I'm gonna need you for a hasty escape if things get messy… and let's face it, they probably will."

"Well, I'm not waiting around here, kupo," Mene argued. "Choco, I say we're going!"

Chcoc trilled.

"Chocoooo," Mene whined, "It's dangerous here, kupo!"

The chocobo trilled again and stamped a foot, and when Mene went to moan again he bucked his back and the moogle fell onto the grassy ground.

"Heh heh, looks like Choco's had enough your whinging, Mene," Zidane observed.

"Shut up! Don't leave me here! I'm coming with you!"

"Uh… I don't think that's a good idea."

"Fine, I'll just fly in first and tell them –"

"Ugh, whatever. Fine. Just stay quiet, alright?"

With this watery agreement between them, Zidane and Mene skirted the encampment from a distance and prayed no keen-eyed scout picked out their forms against the muddy fields. As they got closer they came across a pile of human remains, charred from a recent burning, obviously victims of plague. Zidane was half thankful they weren't fresh; the plague did indeed seem to be dying out.

They reached the periphery of the camp unhindered and Zidane slid his back against the canvas of a tent.

"What now, kupo?" Mene whispered.

What now indeed. Clever plans had never been his forte. That was Kuja's thing, and he was no Kuja.

"Fuck it," was Zidane's plan, and he drew his daggers and leapt out into a clearing.

vi.

Dimitri was in a much larger tent than his troops, furnished sparsely with a woven rug and a single high-backed chair. Maps of Alexandria had been pinned to the walls and military officers stood around their leader, speaking in low, purposeful tones. Dimitri himself was lounged in the chair with one leg crossed over the other when Zidane was dragged in by a pair of soldiers, unarmed, half conscious, both eyes blackened and lip bleeding. Dimitri leapt out of his chair with unconcealed vigour.

"_You_!" he barked.

"Yes… _me_," Zidane said, and spat a globule of blood onto the rug. "What's left of me, anyway."

"He killed thirty of our troops before we could restrain him," one of the soldiers who gripped Zidane's arm spat. " He attacked us while we had our guard down!"

Dimitri scowled. "You are dismissed. Take those injured to the infirmary immediately and oversee any damages."

The Alexandrian soldiers seemed reluctant to release their captive, but they did so after a moment's pause, then saluted and exited. Zidane grinned and massaged his left shoulder.

"You know this scoundrel?" one of Dimitri's officers asked.

"This," Dimitri said, "is the Prince Consort of Alexandria, Zidane Tribal."

The officers blinked at the battered youth in surprise.

"Wassup?" Zidane acknowledged, then turned a casually dangerous gaze on Dimitri. "Long time no see, asshole. I see you've been busy. Turning Alexandrian soldiers against the monarchy is an interesting pastime, though not one I can say I approve of."

"What are you doing here?" Dimitri snapped, crossing his arms.

"Oh, I don't know," Zidane drawled, rolling his eyes. "Trying to stop a madman from attacking my wife and claiming the throne, perhaps?"

Dimitri snorted but his gaze darted away from Zidane's in a moment of betrayed embarrassment. "Mad, am I? The only mad one is Garnet for marrying the likes of you."

Zidane's insides boiled at the insult and his jaw twitched, but he managed to restrain the urge to sock Dimitri in the gut. "Dimitri, let's be honest here. I don't know you, and you don't know me, but we both share an affinity with the same woman and I think deep down, you don't want to see her get hurt. I wont pretend to know anything about politics, all I know is that this stupid coup d'etat you're trying to pull is gonna hurt my wife, and I can't let that happen. Please stop this, before people get hurt."

Dimitri turned his back for a moment. The drizzle hardened into a shower, making pleasant music against the tent's canvas. Outside, Zidane could hear it rebounding off armour and from somewhere far away, there was a cry of a chocobo.

Dimitri turned back, hazel eyes pained. "That's the problem here, isn't it? You _don't_ understand. It's all well and good for you to come barging in here trying to talk me out of dethroning my cousin, but I am only doing what the people want."

"You talked them into it!" Zidane flared, pointing an accusing finger. "You turned them against her!"

"If you hadn't come along I wouldn't have had to take such action in the first place!"

Zidane bit down the sting of the truth. "Why can't you just accept it!? Everyone else has!"

Dimitri gestured to the tent's exit. "Have they? What is this army, then? Who are these nobles that follow me? You think everyone approves of your allegiance?"

"Of course not! But you're being deluded! The soldiers follow you because they have no other choice, and the nobles follow you because they don't want to see me as prince consort! The people of Alexandria are happy either way, but the plague has left everyone with a bitter taste and their mouth so _you're_ stirring things up! Why don't you just buzz of already and leave me and Garnet alone!?"

Dimitri laughed unpleasantly. "Such a simple mind you have. I was promised the title of prince consort as a child. Besides, mother said Garnet doesn't deserve to be on the throne as there is as much royal blood in her as there is in yours."

Zidane harrumphed. "Well if _mother_ says Garnet's no good then that makes everything okay, doesn't it? You stuck up, pansy-talking, fag-faced mummy's boy!"

"SILENCE!" Dimitri bellowed. "You waltz into my encampment and expect me to listen to your pointless rambling as if you are an ally! Didn't it ever occur to you that I have no intention of harming Garnet?"

This stopped Zidane in his tracks. "What?"

Dimitri took a risky step toward the blonde. "I do care about Garnet; that will never change. I want her throne, but I don't want her dead. I never have. I'm simply going to take control of Alexandria and create the illusion that I killed her. In truth, she'll just be banished." He left a suggestive pause before adding, "Free to live any way she pleases, anywhere she pleases, with whomever she pleases."

Zidane turned abruptly, eyes fixed on the floor. His heart pounded. His mind whirled at the possibilities. If he let Dimitri take the throne he and Dagger could live together without the worries of royal life coming between their relationship! They could get a small house in Lindblum, maybe near the Theatre District… She could get a job, something nice like… like a florist or something. Or maybe she could get a job at the castle! Cid would be glad to accommodate her. He could start up acting again with his bros and she could cook him dinner every night in their little kitchen and then they could go out to the local pub for poker night with Blank and Ruby and –

Zidane turned around slowly. His eyes met Dimitri's again, large and sad. "That would be perfect, wouldn't it? For me and for you. You'd get the throne and I'd get Garnet. We'd run off together as refugees, outcasts, but we'd still have each other – and the rest of our lives."

Dimitri said nothing.

Zidane sighed. "But… But that wouldn't be right, would it? People are gonna die because of this war, whether I stand aside or not. I couldn't live with that, with the blood of innocents on my hands. And… and Dagger… she wouldn't forgive me. Never. She wouldn't even want to _look_ at me if I did that to her, let alone _be_ with me." He stared up at Dimitri defiantly, decision made. "I made a promise to her, and I intend to keep it. Even though I'm not a noble, even though I know nothing about politics or etiquette or which cutlery to use when eating certain foods or anything like that… I'll protect her and her kingdom, no matter what." He took a menacing step forward. "If you want to steal her throne… you'll have to go through me first."

Dimitri blinked, eyes regretful, then he snorted. "Very well. Guards!"

"Look out, kupo!" a voice from somewhere in the corner squeaked just as Zidane dived to the right and a sword cut the air in two.

He barely had time to recover before another soldier joined the fray, and he was rolling again to his left to avoid another strike. No time to assess the situation, he lifted the tent's canvas and wriggled out into the wet air. Someone grabbed his ankle from the inside but he kicked a hard, vicious kick and heard it connect with an armoured arm that dutifully released his appendage. Barely time to breathe, he stuck two fingers in his mouth and whistled, then was on his feet again, snaking through a narrow corridor of tents. Soldiers yelled in alarm. Behind him came the trample of feet. There was the brief smell of sulphur then hot magic sent him flying into a rabble of half-armoured men and burnt the shirtsleeve of his right arm. He yelped in pain as an afterthought, and in one fluid movement he pushed off the stunned soldiers and drew a sword from one of their scabbards. It was long and heavy, alien, but all he had. He leapt into a clearing just as the first soldier caught up with him. The woman released a shrill battle cry as her sword came whistling down and struck his own. Sparks exploded along their blades for a brief second then Zidane deflected the blow and spun and deflected another from a different soldier to his right. More were joining the fray and now the air crackled with the onset of a spell. Zidane cursed, jumped high, propelled himself off the helmed head of a soldier and back flipped to temporary safety just as a thunder spell exploded into the muddy ground.

He ran, and whistled as he did so, the note almost lost amid the angry cries of pursuing soldiers, but this time his call was answered with an attentive '_kweh_!'

He weaved his way through a maze of tents, trying to gain some semblance of direction. The way ahead was abruptly blocked by a group of three soldiers and his pursuers blocked a hasty retreat. No time to think, he used the sword to rip an exit through the tent to his right and dived through. The startled soldier within shrieked but Zidane was already slicing through the other side and tearing out, dashing down another unpredictable pathway.

He came up short not a moment later. Hounded on all sides, Zidane whirled and put his back to a tent then slashed manically left and right, pushing the soldiers back. He jumped again, higher this time, and balanced on the top of the tent for a split second before making another leap.

It was gamble, but he knew his trusty partner well, and Choco was there in a flash, Mene in tow, catching his master in a flurry of golden feathers. Zidane urged him higher as a fireball crackled past his left shoulder and the air suddenly stank of singed feathers. Choco squawked belligerently, but soon they were a safe distance away, Zidane panting and doubled over against the comforting softness of Choco's back. Below, the soldiers were a shiny, infuriated mass between squares of canvas, a silver stream between jutting boulders.

Burning with fury, Zidane urged Choco back toward Alexandria, and Mene decided it best to stay quiet, just this once.


	14. Red Reflections

Hmm, war is grim business. Getting down to the bloody basics in this chapter… yay? Anyway, I'm no good at battle tactics so if anything's amiss here kindly overlook it and go with the flow.

Enjoyyyy!

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen**  
Red Reflections

i.

"He's doing it again, Your Majesty!"

Garnet looked up from the plans she was surveying and offered a belated grin. Briar and Nell were huddled together side by side, peering down at their queen with large, excited eyes.

"Are you still so besotted with his silly trick?" Garnet inquired and they nodded hesitantly.

"It's just… so daring and… and _romantic_!" Nell bleated wistfully. "Don't you think so, Your Majesty?"

Garnet snorted and shuffled her plans into something resembling a pile. "Don't tell _him_ that. His reckless nature doesn't need any kind of provocation."

"Come see anyway!" Briar chimed. "Or it'll go to waste!"

Garnet hid a smile and said, "Oh very well," with a nonchalance that was entirely feigned then followed them to the gardens.

It had been two days since Mene had returned with the troubling news of the gathered army and Zidane's reckless scheme to stop Dimi (she had been dismayed by Zidane's rash behaviour, but mostly she was unsurprised), and with only one day left until the barrier was taken down Beatrix had deemed Alexandria plague-free enough to reopen the gardens for Garnet's use. And also, Garnet thought, partly because of Zidane's newfound discovery.

You could stand on top of the barrier.

Garnet stopped in the centre of a grassy expanse and turned her gaze to the vast sweep of midday sky. The shield glistened with colourful rainbows like a dragonfly's wing, and when she shielded her eyes from the glare of the sun she spotted a figure sitting at the peak of the dome, four hundred feet above Alexandria's streets.

Zidane.

"I hope he doesn't fall," Garnet worried for the millionth time.

At his side was Choco, carelessly preening iridescent feathers, and beside the bird was a moogle – probably Mene, though it was impossible to tell from so far away.

Zidane appeared to be looking down into the dome, though his expression could not be determined. Garnet waved hesitantly (a stupid little wave he wouldn't have seen even if he'd been looking intently in her direction) but when Briar and Nell noticed Garnet's lame attempt to contact her prince consort they began jumping around, waving their arms wildly and futilely shouting Zidane's name to the heavens.

He must have been looking specifically for her around the castle grounds, because he spotted the activity almost immediately and waved frantically in return. Despite her initial reservations, Garnet returned his greeting with equal vigour and felt her heart constrict with longing. It had been only a few weeks since he'd held her in his arms, yet it felt like months!

Apparently satisfied, Zidane stood up and turned his attention to the horizon. His stance sent queasy shivers down her spine. She knew that stance. Ready, tense, impatient. He was watching something…Waiting for something…

Waiting for the battle to begin.

Garnet averted her gaze awkwardly and retreated back inside. Nell and Briar followed obediently, sobered by their mistress' mood.

Yet the grim subject could not be pushed aside so easily. She had a meeting to attend with Beatrix and Steiner, so she headed for the Audience Chamber, which had once been the War Room, but Garnet had it renamed and refurnished following the Second Mist War, and now she considered her decision somewhat naïve. It was a small anti-chamber on the middle floor of the castle, the walls lined with framed maps (including the one Cid had given Zidane years ago – the one he had absurdly mistaken for a rag initially, and Garnet swore she'd seen him use it as such on one too many occasion) and was dominated by a heavy witchwood table without chairs. Sitting in a room dedicated to the planning of war seemed too stoic, too negligent, so she'd had them removed.

She dismissed her maids and the guards at the door (they were superfluous in the presence of both Steiner and Beatrix) and her general and captain saluted dourly as she took her place at the head of the table.

There was no need to exchange pleasantries; they would have sounded empty.

"Despite being involved in the Second Mist War," Garnet began sheepishly, "I'm afraid I'm not very good at military strategy and the like… Mother said it was unbecoming of a lady to learn such things…" She cringed at the irony, then added so as not to offend Beatrix and her largely female army, "Well, maybe just for princesses."

"It matters not," Steiner reassured. "Beatrix and I will inform you of our status and you can act as you see fit."

"With our guidance," Beatrix added, with a sweep of her immaculate locks. "Do not fret, Your Majesty."

Garnet nodded and gestured for them to continue.

"There are numerous problems concerning Dimitri's attack," Beatrix began. "Firstly, he actually outnumbers us. Treno has recently reopened its gates but any troops we can recall to the capital wont reach us in time, and Treno will need all the help they can get managing the refugees. Dimitri's force doesn't outnumber us considerably, but it certainly doesn't aid our other problem.

"Dimitri will undoubtedly station his army on the east side of the Great Lake. We will need to cross the lake by boat to reach them, making us easy targets for their archers. I fear we will lose a fair number of soldiers during such an attack."

Garnet's heart sank. "But… surely there's an alternate?"

Beatrix and Steiner exchanged a glance; the latter shrugged. Beatrix said, "Not really. Only the east side possesses the shoreline to allow docking by boat, for the water on other sides is too deep, the soldiers will sink in their armour. The other alternative is to stay put, but obviously that is not a sensible option. Dimitri could easily overwhelm our defences if he tried hard enough, and as we are all aware, the people need food. Allowing a siege is not a good idea."

"We will be sending our own arrows too," Steiner said. "Though the enemy will have a considerable advantage and it will be grisly, I think we will be able to push them back, and then the battle can fully commence."

"Can't we split the troops? Exit via the front of Alexandria then march around the lake, then attack them at both angles?"

"We considered that," Beatrix said, "but Dimitri would spot us marching around the lake and split his own troops, or coordinate a counter attack. Trapping the enemy thus only works if it is unpredicted. Besides, nothing good can come of splitting the troops, few as we are in numbers."

"We should cross the lake as soon as possible, then," Garnet surmised. "Today?"

"Dimitri's troops are only a few hours march away," Beatrix told her. "It's nearly nightfall, so he wont attack, and we'll only manage to get a few squadrons across the lake, at most. They'll be slaughtered, and we don't want to be caught in the dark anyway."

"We'll need the strongest troops on the front line then…" Garnet trailed off. "I guess you'll both be going…?"

Her general and captain nodded. Steiner added, "And we guess Zidane will be throwing himself in first too, regardless of orders."

Garnet's heart constricted. Steiner was right. For the first time she found herself inwardly cursing Dimitri.

"I guess I wont be allowed to join you?" she tried, knowing the answer before it came.

Beatrix confirmed her guess. "We have plenty of white mages at hand, Your Majesty."

Garnet fidgeted with her gown. "Just… Please keep half an eye on him, okay? He doesn't know when to stop –"

"I know, Your Majesty," Steiner intervened her worry. "Besides, that monkey can take of himself."

"We'll keep an eye on the prince," Beatrix promised, shooting Steiner a warning glare. "The most important thing is preventing Dimitri from taking the capital. If they manage to cross the lake, Leviathan –"

"No," Garnet intervened. "I wont. I can't. Not the Eidolons." She hesitated. "I mean… if it comes to it… really, truly comes to it. If the citizens were threatened… But… I couldn't forgive myself. I don't want to make the same mistakes mother did… I'd be no better than Kuja."

They drilled through their battle plans, as stringy as they were, until they heard the sound of trumpets on the battlements, the sign that Dimitri's troops had breached the furthest rise and were less than an hour away from the outskirts of Alexandria's Great Lake.

Garnet couldn't muster the courage to watch their approach, and as night descended she found her dreams were full of blood.

ii.

The morning sky was pale lavender. Ribbons of silver cut through its canvas, cloudless, and the moons were only just beginning to fade. There was a slight chill in the air as the stars winked out one by one, and the fresh sun began to highlight the mountains in gold. The weather promised to be good.

It didn't seem like a day for war at all.

Zidane sat astride Choco, steering him cautiously around the outskirts of Alexandria, a distance away from Dimitri's troops, which camped on the opposite bank. Behind him the town teemed with soldiers. Zidane could imagine the clang of a dozen blacksmiths, hammering out and sharpening any faults in the weaponry. The canals that merged with the lake bristled with boats, and in turn those bristled with soldiers. The bows bumped against Alexander's shield, like dogs pawing at a closed door.

Tearing his eyes briefly from Dimitri's troops (looking nervous but less so than the ones still trapped within Alexandria) he found Beatrix and Steiner standing side by side at the very edge of the bubble. Beatrix was peering through a spyglass across the lake. Steiner had staked the ground with his sword and one hand rested on its pummel. His expression was grim.

Zidane approached them and grinned.

Steiner shook his fist and Beatrix did not appreciate his grin either, it seemed. Instead she attempted to signal the general plan, of which Zidane had pretty much guessed anyway; their options were limited. Beatrix indicated the situation with the archers, and gestured pushing the army back to make room for their own to gain purchase on land.

Zidane rubbed his chin thoughtfully. This was going to be bloody, to say the least. But they probably knew that already. He shrugged, and pointed to himself and then at Dimitri's army.

_I'll go first._

Steiner rolled his eyes. Beatrix signed, _We'll be right behind you._

The general abruptly turned her back on him, and both her and Steiner exchanged words with an Alexandria officer. The officer saluted then ran off in the direction of the castle.

Zidane turned Choco back to face the waiting army, and the bird trilled. He was restless and nervous. He paced almost constantly, fluttering golden feathers like a ruffled mother hen. Zidane petted him.

"Don't think you should join me on the battlefield, buddy," he said. "But you can give me a good head start."

In one hand Zidane twirled Mage Masher, the partner to the one he'd had confiscated during his skirmish with Dimitri's troops a few days ago. He'd thought of bringing Ultima Weapon (mounted on a wall in Alexandria Castle, unlike his other weapons which were in an unorganised bundle at the bottom of a treasure chest under Dagger's bed) but decided that thief swords were too cumbersome in close combat, especially when assaulted on all sides, as he undoubtedly would be. Besides, Mage Masher was his favourite and most trustworthy weapon. He'd stolen it from Baku and it had served him well all through the war.

There was an unexpected surge of magic in the air then, enough to make the hairs on his arms stand on end, and he turned round on Choco's back to cast Beatrix and Steiner a bewildered look. Yet they were nowhere to be seen, and all the soldiers were waiting in the boats, ready and armed.

The surge came again, and this time it was paired with a distinct smell of oranges.

_Dagger_.

It was rumoured that when a white mage cast a spell it brought with it a smell unique to that individual. He'd always scoffed at such silly a notion, but when he first started travelling with Dagger and had been the subject of many a cure, he swore to all the gods above he smelt oranges every time her magic danced through his veins (sometimes he thought he smelt parsley when Eiko cast, but for some reason he was much more attune to Dagger's scent). But this time the smell of oranges was underlined with something else, oil and musty feathers and burning (_Alexander_?) and quite suddenly the great shield rippled, as if made of water.

The ripples travelled downward soundlessly, and disappeared when they reached the ground. Then, starting from the top, the barrier began to dissolve. Like a veil being slowly drawn back from the face of a bride, the magic disappeared and Alexandria was released from its confines.

Zidane had only a moment to ponder this before he heard the shout of an Alexandrian soldier - perhaps even Beatrix herself – and the first boat shot out of the canal and breeched the lake.

Zidane yelled and spun Choco around, facing Dimitri's army. The soldiers were hurrying into formation, small figures in the distance scurrying to reach the shoreline. Zidane even thought he spotted Dimitri mounted on a war chocobo, charging behind the forming ranks, but he was unsure.

Upon seeing his foe, Zidane felt a surge of adrenalin. Now or never, his mind thundered, and he drew his other dagger and charged across the lake to meet them.

iii.

Choco was considerably faster than the boats that splashed and cavorted through the tideless lake. Dimitri's troops were prepared, but still not entirely ready for the speed of the chocobo, so Zidane steered the bird toward the less organised of the ranks. As soon as he was within range the first arrow whistled past his shoulder and he winced, spurred Choco faster. The bird squawked and the first line of soldiers loomed close. Arrows bit the air and disappeared into the lake, one nicked his arm, another his thigh, but there was no obtrusive damage, and as the land finally came within jumping distance, Zidane stood on Choco's back and leapt –

The archer staggered backwards as Zidane landed a blow to his chest. He fumbled hopelessly with his bow but by then it was too late; Zidane's dagger was faster. The archers lining the shore turned on him, bemused and furious at once, and with godly speed Zidane twirled, moved and slashed through the flimsy wood and string of their weapons, rendering them useless.

Further up shore, more archer's turned their attention to him, and this time an arrow thudded beneath his shoulder blade with enough force to topple him backwards. The soldiers would have been on him in seconds if not for his tail, which he used as a spring to prevent him falling completely to the earth. He found his feet again without ever truly losing them, and grinned like a feral cat at the line of soldiers blinking stupidly at him.

"The Alexandrians!" a furious bellow came from somewhere along the line. "Defend the shore, you idiots!"

The archers who had trained their sights on Zidane hurriedly turned back just as the first boats came within range and Beatrix's archers let loose. It could have been fatal for Zidane, but Beatrix had witnessed his landing sight and directed her archers away, quick thinking that Zidane was eternally grateful for.

_They're mine_, was Zidane's adrenalin-fuelled thought as he cut down those archers that had foolishly turned their backs on him to return fire. He darted along the line best he could, dodging and parrying any blade that tried to apprehend him, and he cut down archer after archer until the foot soldiers were forced to aid their falling comrades.

Arrows thudded into the ground around him. One nicked his cheek and as he winced a soldier caught him with the flat of her shield, knocking him sideways and causing bright sparks to hinder his vision. He caught himself just before he hit the ground and cart wheeled one handed, kicking the soldier in his path in the stomach before regaining ground.

Swords abruptly rained around him. He had time to wish for Vivi's black magic before thought was replaced completely with battle honed instinct, primitive impulse spurring him forward into their ranks as they fell one by one beneath his daggers.

There was a commotion behind him (he dared not turn round) but it seemed the first troops had landed. Dimitri's foot soldiers surged forward as the archers fell back, and still Beatrix's army clouded the sky with arrows, like swarms of angry bees.

Zidane dodged and weaved his way through the ranks, his arms and torso now crisscrossed with shallow cuts. His mind was dangerously sharp, each agile manoeuvre as essential as it was deadly; he left a trail of corpses in his wake and those that had survived disembarking the boats filled these gaps like blood seeping through a wound.

Yet Zidane was always ahead, and eventually he found himself entirely surrounded, and with each soldier he cut down it seemed another two would take their place. He could not risk maintaining combat with just one foe; every time he turned he left his back open for assault, and for that he paid the price.

As he turned to cut down another, a blade slashed across his back. The cut was deep and Zidane was propelled forward, breathless from the fresh, rich pain, and he almost landed on another's blade. He managed to swerve sideways, twisting Mage Masher in his grasp and severing a wrist. But he stumbled and it suddenly dawned on him that he was tiring. Had Beatrix's troops gained substantial purchase on the ground? Or was it just he, fighting alone amidst this enormous army of usurpers?

For a brief second, the impossibility of fighting so many soldiers alone dawned upon him.

Then the surrounding soldiers advanced. The air stank of blood and the sound of metal on metal, cries, screams, gurgles, curses and prayers was a brutal melody on the early morning tide.

Not a few seconds had passed but his moment of contemplation had him distracted, and suddenly the soldier to his right lunged forward. Zidane whirled in an attempt to parry, but the angle was all wrong and his dagger was thrown aside by the force of the blow. Pain shot up his wrist and arm, and before he had a chance to swing his other weapon the soldier was upon him, shoving him to the blood soaked grass. A foot missed crushing his head by mere inches, but he hardly noticed, eyes fixed on the visage of his killer, face a blur of unthinking hate as they raised the blade high and –

Their eyes lost focus and a gurgled sigh escaped their lips. Unexpected, for there was no one behind him, and it was only as the soldier slumped forward on top of Zidane that he abruptly noticed the spear protruding from his chest.

_Spear…?_

"Hello, you," Freya greeted sedately as she kicked the corpse off him.

"F-F-Freya!" Zidane stammered hysterically.

The Dragon knight was clad head to toe in her clan's armour, silver fur matted with blood, none of it appearing to be her own. She yanked him to his feet wordlessly, the slightest of smiles tugging at her muzzle, then she jerked her spear free of the corpse's back.

"What are you doing here?" Zidane yelled above the ruckus, eyes constantly darting for imminent attack as he recovered himself.

Freya took a moment to deliver a deciding blow to a foe, and as she spun round to confront another she quickly answered, "Helping a friend."

Zidane felt a warm stab of inexpressible gratitude and paused to grasp Freya's forearm. She returned the gesture in a warrior's greeting, then diverted her attention to more deadly matters.

Zidane shouted, "You came by yourself?"

"Of course not," the knight snorted. "I brought along my squadron and Frately brought his."

"Frately?"

As if to answer Zidane's bellowed question, a dragon knight clad in golden armour leapt into the azure sky. His attention was not directed at Zidane however, and suddenly he was lost amid the soldiers again, having plunged spear-first into their ranks.

_Damn Freya, I owe you one._

Suddenly awash with renewed energy, Zidane returned to battle with vigour, wielding just a single dagger now, yet more dangerous in his capable hands than in any of the soldiers surrounding him. Through the gaps, Zidane spotted a handful of Burmecians, and Beatrix and Steiner, fighting side by side with expressions that were unutterably pained. They cut down their own men, Zidane knew, and he grimaced at what they must be enduring internally, for he knew he could never cut down another thief, let alone his own brothers.

And as his gaze rested briefly on Steiner (unstoppable and merciless despite the kin he cut down), a thought hit him with more force than a hundred arrows.

If Steiner was here, who was protecting Dagger?

The battle whirled around him but his thoughts were abruptly derailed. He parried a blow, disarmed another soldier, and finished another with a quick flick of the blade, and he tried to convince himself that she was safer in the castle than anywhere, barricaded behind walls and undoubtedly surrounded by a squadron of soldiers.

A squadron.

Pluto knights or foot soldiers?

Officers?

Would they give their lives for their queen?

Was Dagger even doing what she was told, and staying put?

Was she safe? Was she hurt? Was she scared?

Where was Dimitri?

A blade slid past his defence and bit deep into his side. He yelled and pulled back, then lashed out until the soldier fell to his feet in a fountain of blood.

"Watch yourself!" Freya snapped to his right, but he caught her concerned frown beneath the lip of her helm. "What's wrong with you?"

Zidane momentarily lowered his dagger, lips pursed. "I… I have to go back to the castle. Something's not right."

"Garnet?" Freya questioned.

Zidane nodded and gripped her arm again. "Take care, Freya! Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

Freya snorted disdainfully, then leapt into the air to a height only Burmecians could dream of reaching. From her vantage point she readied herself then descended again in a furious rush, spear a heartbeat ahead of her. The surrounding Alexandrians that weren't skewered scrabbled to get away, and Zidane spotted the opening she'd made for him and dived through.

Inevitably the gap closed moments later with a phalanx of fighting bodies, but he pushed and cut his way back to the bank, which was piled high with dead. Bodies floated in the water, spreading crimson shapes across the lake.

Zidane whistled as loud as he could, once, twice, and just as an enemy made for him once more, Choco obediently appeared and squawked a warning at Zidane's opponent, causing him to back up substantially, sword quivering in his grip.

Zidane seized this relapse to mount the bird, then they were away again, speeding from the larger battle toward a castle whose reflection shimmered ominously red in the bloodied water.


	15. The Other Battle

Quick updates checkitout. I have soooo much work but I'm terrible at focussing. Sometimes I need a distraction. Thank you so much for all your feedback, by the way, and I'm sorry I can't get back to you all individually! Please know that every review is appreciated, and each spurs me to write more! Thanks again.

Enjoy the chapter!

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen  
**The Other Battle

i.

Garnet stared up at the portrait of her mother. It was still framed above the stairs – she would never have the heart to move it – so that Brahne could fix those that entered her castle with a stare both coldly dignified and quietly intriguing. It was always a comfort, that portrait. As if Brahne was looking over her previous domain beyond the grave, a concept that might spook any other castle dweller, but not Garnet, who sought refuge in her mother's painted stare. Brahne had not put it there to compliment her ego, but as a kind of unsubtle reminder to those that trespassed on royal territory. Garnet had always thought her eyes twinkled with some unspoken dare, her face openly inviting challenge.

Standing beneath the painting now, dark eyes drawn beseechingly upward like a disciple in prayer, she was reminded of the night Bahamut ran riot at the hands of Kuja; Beatrix and Steiner in battle and she alone and terrified at the seat of this same painting.

"Mother…" she whispered. "What can I do…?"

She was cocooned by her helplessness once again, trapped inside her castle as her staff and magic lay untouched like books gathering dust on a top shelf. She didn't even have the courage to stand on the battlements to oversee the war, her powerlessness a restriction so fierce it was as if she was physically restrained, for eidolons forbid she see Zidane fall from afar.

_He wont fall. Not like this. He's made it through worse_. We've_ made it through worse._

But this mantra wasn't sufficient to quell her unease, so she stood at the base of her deceased mother's portrait and rung her hands worriedly, staring and staring as if waiting for Brahne to step down from between the frame and reclaim authority.

_Coward_, Garnet seethed inwardly. _Can't even watch your troops battle for your throne._

Not for the first time, as her head swam with the prospect of battle, she thought she heard a whisper at the back of her mind. Soft but commanding, a presence that was slight but unignorable like an insect crawling across her skin. She had shied away from it initially and with all the good intentions she could muster, but with every passing moment she found herself drawn closer and closer to the familiar whisper as helplessly as a moth to a flame, and every time she drew near her consciousness would brush against that presence and it was overwhelmingly delicious.

Her eidolons were there, waiting, ready, drawn to her mind's subconscious call as her body itched to join the battle. If she had still possessed a summoner's horn she knew she would be able to hear their individual voices with startling clarity, as Eiko did, but in her current state their voices were just indiscernible whispers, the most addictive of caresses at the edge of her perception.

_No_, she instructed herself resolutely.

The eidolons were too powerful, the combat too close. Unperturbed by the nature and alliances of their foe, they would destroy both sides of the army without hesitation. And she could still see Atmos' gaping mouth and Lindblum leaning like a tree pushed by wind, the broken glass, buildings, flora, fauna, _people_ caught in its gravity whirlwind. She wouldn't - couldn't – use the eidolons for that purpose.

Still…

Their calls were persistent, and as the desire to join the battle grew, their touch became a steady pulse at her temple. Of course, she could not summon without a weapon but she knew where they were kept, how she could reach them, and then it was merely a matter of -

_No, no, no._

"_Mother_," she tried again, the note strained and pathetic. It sounded horrible in the empty hallway and it struck her just how useless she sounded, beseeching a painting and memory of her deceased mother, who died in a war not unlike this.

A sudden commotion ripped her from her reverie. She turned slowly, cautiously, heart abruptly jackhammering in her chest. Subconsciously, her hand shot to her sapphire necklace.

Another muted crash. Nearby, but not within range. Garnet kicked off her shoes and padded to the banister. Cautiously, she peered over. Nothing. She waited.

A raucous shout came from the West Library and she startled backwards. There were four guards posted at every doorway in the castle, archers ringing the battlements and two platoons of soldiers at every break in its surrounding walls, and yet there was a commotion in the _library_?

Though her better senses compelled her to run, she found herself immobile, leaning across the banister with an ear cocked as her brain racked for details. The castle was a beehive of secret passageways that the servants used to conveniently attend the rooms without disturbing the passage of higher-class visitors. These corridors were no secret, but all were as ancient as the castle and many were unused, undiscovered or blocked; some led to all ends of Alexandria, including the docks. It was possible one could have been intercepted –

The doors of the library banged open and a rogue Alexandrian solider warily entered the hallway, sword drawn.

Garnet didn't hesitate. She picked up her skirts and fled. Up the stairs and to the right, heading for the closest doorway. She heard heated conversation downstairs, but didn't stop to eavesdrop, and as she shoved the door wide open she came upon all four of the guards stationed at that post.

"The castle has been breeched!" she hissed. "Downstairs! Quickly go and get –"

Something whistled a most peculiar note in her ear, and then there was an arrow sprouting from the eye socket of one of the soldiers. They staggered backward and fell, dead before they hit the carpet.

Garnet's mind reeled and then there were more whistles. As the guards fell around her, she found herself running without even giving her legs permission to do so, and as if they truly had developed a consciousness of their own, they made for her mother's old room.

Her path was followed by the sounds of battle as the guards she encountered en route engaged in combat with her pursuers. She could not deduce the outcome of their skirmishes, but was not so stupid as to linger and find out. She thought briefly of directing the guards, but Steiner had drilled them with their duties in times of emergency so all she could do was trust her own instincts.

Her mother's room had been refurnished into a sitting room, the grand bed replaced with loungers, bookshelves and cabinets of drink. As she shot across the carpet, panting now and the eidolon's buzzing in her mind like trapped wasps, she was struck again by deja vu, thinking of her mother's warped persona carelessly sanctifying her death, and Kuja, grabbing her with elegant hands and whispering magic in her ear. She could remember clearly his scent, lavender soap and dragon feathers, his eyes that were as captivating as they were cruel so close to hers that the feathers in his hair had brushed against her cheek. He had purred poetry and then the air had stunk of noxious magic.

But that was a long time ago and Kuja was dead and there were more pressing matters to attend to than buried nightmares.

Garnet practically threw herself at the candlestick by the fireplace, and the latter in question gave a grudging groan (she discerned the clack of clockwork behind its mantle) and spun around, revealing one of the castle's numerous secret passageways.

There was a resounding clash outside her mother's chamber and a chilling shriek.

Garnet dashed through the revealed entrance, no time to figure out how to close it behind her, and the soles of her feet sang numbly against the abrupt coldness of a stone floor.

In front of her, the platforms that usually spun sporadically on an axis were still, deactivated for reasons she had no time to dwell on. She mounted the first with reckless abandon, but slowed when she reached its centre so she could wriggle past the pole and gears. The sheer drop inches behind her heel was like a hand tugging at her skirt; her mind reeled with vertigo for an instant, and as she squeezed past her dress became snagged in the gears. She yelped as it yanked her to a halt.

There was din nearby – her pursuers had reached her mother's room!

Garnet tugged desperately at her skirt, careful to maintain a balance Zidane could have preserved effortlessly, but the gears refused to yield.

Another crash – a shout!

Garnet whimpered, tried another tug, then dropped to her hands and knees and used the same gears to hack a small hole in the fabric. With a triumphant bray she ripped a chunk of the skirt clean off and, without allowing a moment to even _breathe_, she leapt to her feet and charged down the staircase two steps at a time.

As she descended to the lower level the rebel soldiers mounted the immobile platform above, and one shouted upon spotting her. She didn't waste a glance and the promise of an arrow between her shoulder blades spurred her faster.

The eidolons vengeance roared in her ears. Above that, she heard the clang-clang-clang of armoured feet against stairs and she prayed her bare feet and torn dress yielded fairer speed then the heavy armour of her pursuers.

She nearly skidded off the edge of the staircase as she turned a sudden corner and threw herself into the wooden door opposite. Thank all the gods above, it was unlocked, and with a ecstatic cry she entered the armoury, which had once been the place her previous jesters had extracted from her the beasts that now clawed the insides of her mind.

She slammed the heavy oak door behind her and jolted down the iron bar. Seconds later a body smashed into the other side and she startled backward with a shriek. But no time, no time for foolish fear. She spun on her heel and jogged past Steiner's polished collection of swords, labelled and categorized, Zidane's Ultima Weapon hanging on the wall, and to her own assortment of staffs, as the soldier's ominous thuds shook the door on its frame.

The giant chest that held her weaponry was locked by a series of latches, and with trembling, panicky fingers she flicked them one by one - how many latches did a chest _need_! – then threw back the lid.

The soldiers burst through just as she grabbed her nearest weapon, a Wizard Rod, and she spun round with a tight fist of panic clenching the breath right out of her lungs.

Dimitri stood before her, eyebrows drawn and complexion pale. He wore embossed silver armour over a purple tunic, a long sword sheathed at his side, and he sported no helm; his dark hair was matted against his forehead. One hand was raised in the air. Behind him was a row of soldiers, each with an arrow trained on her and broad swords strapped to their backs.

"Garnet," Dimitri greeted, voice inflected with a regret she didn't much care for.

"Dimitri," she returned, and was shocked by her unwavering, regal tone.

"I think we need to talk."

She snorted. "You picked a funny way of requesting an audience."

"I don't want to kill you, Garnet," he told her evenly. "I just want what's rightfully mine."  
"It _isn't_ rightfully yours," she countered hotly. "And I wont let you take it."

"Surrender," Dimitri said. "Please. For both our sake's, just give up."

"Never!"

The Wizard Rod sweated in her hands. The eidolons were like the crashing of the sea upon rocks, their influence sweet as honey and she craved it, and with every inch she allowed them they took a mile, filling her conscious and infecting her with their own desire to be released. It made her dizzy; the feeling was somehow euphoric and irresistible, like lust.

But she shook them off. It was hard because…

"I don't hate you, Dimi," she admitted, feeling a little tendril of despair unwind. "Please… please just _stop_ this…"

Dimitri moved forward, arms open. "I can't. I wont. But I'm not going to kill you. You could… It's still not too late to wed me. Then you could stay queen and the country would be afflicted by this war no more."

"Zidane –"

"Forget him."

"No!"

"Why are you being so stubborn?" Dimitri gritted. "Truly, is that your answer? You would give up everything, even your life, to be with him?"

"You've betrayed me, Dimi. I wouldn't be with you even if I were not with Zidane. I'll never surrender!"

She took up her staff with vigour, eyes suddenly aglow with something not quite human, and Dimitri was overpowered by the peculiar smell of oranges.

She wouldn't summon, not after her mother –

But a spiral of red-hot aura exploded from the tip of her staff and she closed her eyes in a half-trance, hair stirring in an unfelt breeze, and the air crackled violently.

"Don't!" Dimitri yelled, then drew his bow and aimed.

Garnet's spell blew apart like an exploding star. She sucked in air involuntarily and stumbled backward as if she had been pushed.

Garnet looked down at the arrow protruding from her left shoulder. The feathered quill trembled like a mouse cornered by a cat. There was no blood, and the pain was bright and alien.

She blinked up at Dimitri, frowning, her mouth working soundlessly.

"Don't make me do it," Dimitri said in a voice that was genuinely pained as he notched another arrow. "Please. Stop."

Something snapped inside her then, and a furious rage boiled like a hot spring. She grit her teeth and regained her footing and twirled her staff with a practised, nimble hand despite the sparks of fresh pain it shot through her wound. The eidolons reappeared in her mind, each scrabbling for attention. She would not let him take her crown, even if it was the last thing she did!

"Don't!" Dimitri shouted and he drew back the arrow and –

Dimitri was gone.

She stared into the space where he had stood, blinking numbly, and for the second time her spell dissolved with a fizzle. A shout rekindled her senses and she looked to the ground to her right.

_Zidane_!

Dimitri had been tackled to the ground and now lay on his back, blinking at the ceiling. Zidane was regaining his feet to Dimitri's left – the force of the tackle had sent him sprawling too, but he was so quick! Her crouched on all fours, a single dagger tilted backward, his face a mask of fury, teeth gritted and bright eyes glinting like Leviathan's scales.

Dimitri drew his sword just in time and Zidane's dagger glanced off the blade with a frightening shriek. Dimitri rolled and just as he leapt to his feet Zidane kicked him back to the stone and was on him, dagger whistling downward with murderous intent.

"Stop!" Garnet shrieked impulsively, and Zidane hesitated.

Dimitri kicked him off and shouted, "Kill him!"

The soldiers took a second to gather their wits - Dimitri and Zidane's skirmish had lasted but a heartbeat – and during that second Garnet's magic worked faster than her mind could keep up. A glossy shield curved around Zidane's form at the same time the arrows bounced harmlessly off it, clattering to the floor.

As the genome twirled to face the advancing soldiers, Dimitri jumped to his feet and grabbed Garnet by the arm. His intention unclear and he was not forceful, but the sudden movement made the arrow grind against flesh and sinew and she cried out in pain.

Zidane's reaction was instant. His frame shuddered as if he'd been struck by lightning and he turned so quickly he knocked two of the soldiers off their feet. His molten gaze fixed on Dimitri, and then it slid to Garnet and found the rapidly growing bloodstain on her gown and the arrow quill protruding from her delicate, milky shoulder. He went stiff as a board, hackles standing on end along his tail.

She knew it was coming before the light filled the room. She could feel the power growing, rising, like magma bubbling inside a volcano. The whole room was thick with it; so heady it made her queasy. Dimitri might have said something, but it was drowned out by the abstract sound of an influx of magic reacting with the atmosphere, a kind of mechanical squealing that set her teeth on edge. They were blinded by a halo of light for only an instant.

And when it receded, it left in its wake hot pink fur, sharp incisors and eyes red as embers.

Zidane grinned -

- and lunged.

His speed was unmatched. The soldiers couldn't hope to keep up with him. Garnet sure couldn't; the next moments came in disjointed fragments. She heard a sickening crack, and Dimi yelled, and then there were gentle, firm hands around her waist and beneath her legs and briefly the hot pink light consumed her, then she was apart from the battle at the other end of the room, standing on a raised platform as if she was an actor watching from the stage as the audience performed for her instead.

Zidane was in front of her, turned away, newly developed fur bristling and tail thrashing furiously. He held out his arms and the fresh avalanche of power she felt made her wince, stumble backwards, and the air tasted of a magic she hadn't felt him use since Necron.

Then the room exploded.

The light blinded her. The noise rocked her. Futilely, she covered her face with her arms and staggered blindly backward. The force hit her in cataclysmic waves, tagged all over with Zidane's resonance. She wasn't sure if it was hurting or not, she merely gritted her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut until her face strained from the effort.

The noise faded along with the light, giving way to empty silence.

Then, "Get up."

Garnet blinked over her arms and surveyed the devastation. The room was scorched and the stone floor smoked, the rug pushed against the far end was in cinders, and where there had once been people now lay charred remains. The air stank of magic residue and burnt flesh. Had Zidane always been this strong, even during Trance?

In a corner, Zidane stood over Dimitri, who was alive. For a moment Garnet was awed by the impossibility of this, and then deduced with what could only be called relief that Zidane had purposely avoided catching him in the blast.

"Get up," Zidane said again. He was still in Trance state, though the light was fading by the second, and the rich fur covering his limbs was waning to dusty grey-pink. He looked calmer – or was he just tired?

Garnet climbed unsteadily to her feet, grimacing as pain shot through her shoulder. She stumbled over to the pair.

Dimitri also stood with some difficulty; though he had been spared the brunt of the attack, he was still severely wounded, and sported a broken arm, the same one he had grabbed her with. Yet he held his chin high and met the genome's crimson glare.

Zidane was silent, and Garnet suddenly realised he was waiting for her to decide Dimitri's fate.

Garnet cleared her throat awkwardly. "I… Dimi… I…" She shook her head. "I… I henceforth strip you of all titles and privileges associated with the throne. You are duke no more and your land and inheritance is… reclaimed to do with as I see fit. As…as punishment for your crimes… you… you are hereby banished from Alexandria… upon pain of death…" She trailed off, uncertain. "If I were you, I'd leave via the underground tunnels…"

"Garnet," Dimitri began, but when he stepped toward her out of reflex Zidane shoved him back.

"Get out," he growled. "And keep in mind that if I ever hear word of you in Alexandria, I'll make it my _personal_ goal to kick your ass to the motherfucking moons."

ii.

Dimitri disappeared through a passageway adjacent to the armoury minutes later with a defeated droop to his shoulders. Garnet's heart went out to him; despite all his wrongs, he was still her beloved childhood friend, and it was only out of necessity that she felt obliged to banish him.

And for his own health, it seemed, as she cast a worried glance at Zidane's heated glare, which trailed after Dimi's disappearing form like a forest fire.

Tentatively, she placed a hand on his arm, and was startled despite herself. Not only did she receive a static shock strong enough to empower a zaghnol, but also the feel of the fur was somewhat surprising. It was soft as cat fur, but there was something off about it – not quite there, as if it was merely an illusion with the ability to manifest an impression of what her mind expected it to be like.

Zidane met her gaze, and then a dizzying light eclipsed his being and when she opened her eyes he was regular Zidane again, and he offered a weary smirk.

"Hi," he said, right before he collapsed into unconsciousness.


	16. Old Wounds

Aaaannnddd cue new plot thread. And by 'plot' I mean chapters of random short stories sparingly linked by running themes. Ho, disjointed oneshots ftw. O gad this was meant to be a short fic but it's gonna end up pretty darn long. Oh well.

Enjoy! (Sorry it's a bit short!)

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen  
**Old Wounds

i.

The skyline was a knot of ambers and reds. From a distance, as he was, it was almost pretty, a vast ribbon of movement that muted the moons and stars and turned something that would otherwise be a boring black into a work of art. The land was the same, transformed into a canvas of writhing colour, where before it would have been just fields of grassy green – boring, boring.

It might have been cold, but the air had been set alight by something unnatural, so now the true temperature was shoved into obscurity. This unnatural heat was decidedly better, anyway. Who needs climate and weather?

Or inelegant, primitive, deluded, superfluous towns?

Some had the gall to dub themselves cities, but that must have been, in the very least, a laughable jest. These chaotic hovels were barely worth burning. Shame those within would never know a true city, or true technology.

The flames grew higher, thirsting to singe even the stars. Towers and houses began to fall, and then whole districts, swallowed by burning pits. The wind picked up and brought with it the sound of screams. The ground trembled with waves of aftershock. Trees uprooted. Monsters shrieked in unholy chorus.

Even the moons seemed to rear back, yet he could not understand why anyone would want to shy away from something so untouchably glorious.

Another mystery he had no care to solve as he watched it all burn.

ii.

As hard as she tried – and she had been trying hard all morning – Garnet couldn't restrain a wince of pain as she bent down to collect a stray fruit that had rolled from a barrel, and needless to say, Steiner caught the expression with all the greedy efficiently of a Gimmie Cat chasing diamond.

"Your Majesty –"

"Pleeassee Steiner," Garnet whined, cutting him off with rehearsed speed. "_Don't_. For the millionth time, I'm _fine_."

"I urge you hear me out on this, your majesty," he lectured regardless, "as one speaking from experience. Though wounds should be exercised to prevent the skin from healing taut –"

"I _know_."

" – putting a barely recovered wound of such severity under stress is unadvisable and can cause further damage to the insides –"

"Adelbert Steiner!" Garnet snapped. "Do you honestly think I don't know what you're telling me? I was apprentice to Beatrix, for heaven's sake! She taught me everything there is to know about white magic!"

"This isn't magic," Steiner mumbled petulantly.

Garnet sighed, defeated, and fiddled with the sling that currently bound her left arm to her chest. The healing arrow wound throbbed dully in response. "Look, I promise I'll go in and rest once I've overseen the majority of the importations."

Steiner hesitated, then nodded and saluted, apparently satisfied. For now.

In actual fact, it had been Garnet who had had to restrain a lecture or two on his behalf, for his wounds were much more severe than hers, and while she dulled the occasional biting pain with a tendril of magic, his way to combat such inconveniencies was through sheer endurance. Occasionally, she would send him a flutter of healing and he would scowl most furiously and urge her not to waste her strength on the likes of him. She had words with Beatrix about his tenacity, but the general could affect him no more than Garnet.

Steiner took Garnet's wound personally. As Captain of the Queen's Royal Guard, he blamed his own negligence for what happened, and refused to recognise Zidane's duty as Prince Consort and Garnet's husband as an excuse to oversee her well being (though he wasn't too proud to express gratitude to the genome, despite the genome in question being bedridden).

At any rate, Steiner had sworn on sword and gods alike that he would never let his duty fail him again. Garnet had argued that by battling on the front lines he _had_ honoured his duty, and that protecting the throne was no different to protecting whoever was on it. He didn't agree, and now he trailed after her diligently, throwing glares at any item of stray fruit, large leaves and reformed Alexandrians alike, whom avoided the queen and her guard with exaggerated vigilance.

After much thought and discussion between herself and Beatrix and Steiner, they decided to allow those wishing to return to the true Alexandrian army a chance redeem prove their loyalty. Many had been puppets to Dimitri's rebellion, mislead and demoralised, and Garnet couldn't help but sympathise with them. They re-entered the army under Beatrix's scrupulous eye at the very bottom of the ranks, and had to swear allegiance to the throne anew.

The nobles who had turned against her were a different story. At first, Garnet pleaded to Beatrix that they only be banished (she had told both general and captain the truth behind Dimitri's disappearance; they had no choice but to accept her decision) but the general had declined, worried they might attempt to find Dimitri and attempt another coup d'etat. Though she disliked the thought of blood on her hands, Beatrix and Steiner both grimly convinced her to have them executed by hanging, which had been done in the town square last noon.

Garnet had looked away when they'd dropped, and strangely, the fact she couldn't even watch weighed heavier on her heart than the deaths themselves.

"Your Majesty! The first of the rations have been unloaded," a Lindblumese soldier interrupted her thoughts.

She nodded in acknowledgment at the barrels stacked beside the Hilda Garde III, full of rations Cid had sent her the moment he'd reopened the borders, plus one hundred soldiers from the guard to help maintain peace, and an extremely repentant letter saying apologising for Lindblum's absence in battle. Garnet had already sent a reply via mognet, dismissing his concerns and reassuring him of her health.

The airship had arrived early that morning, so now the castle was a barely organised beehive of soldiers, Lindblumese and Alexandrian's wrestling with orders from both sides of the Mist Continent with Garnet at the centre of it all, trying to maintain some pretence of authority.

"Good," she said. "Have these taken out into town first. The soldiers there will direct you on how and where they'll be split. Then the second unloading can get underway without any obstacles."

The Lindblumese captain saluted in the Alexandrian fashion and took off, leaving her to turn aside another of Steiner's complaints.

iii.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

Zidane blanched in surprise, tail bristling slightly, and threw a guilty look over his shoulder. "Um…"

"Do you know how long I've been lookin' for you?"

"Ah… Sorry?"

"Sorry my ass," Blank forgave tersely, though his scowl didn't completely dissipate as he strolled toward the blonde and leaned one shoulder against the stone wall of West Tower's parapet.

Zidane was perched atop one of the blocks with a casual ease that no sane man should possess when seated unrestrained beside a four hundred foot drop. His back was hunched in an almost defensive manner and his tail had an unnatural droop to it. Blank deduced his mood with a subconscious effort courtesy to years spent having to endure the thief's abrupt mood swings.

"What's wrong?" he pried grumpily, crossing his arms.

Zidane pouted. "Nothin'…"

Blank rolled his eyes, in no mood for guessing games after having trudged around the castle for the better half of an afternoon. "Fine, whatever, don't tell me. How long have you been awake for?"

"Um… two hours? Maybe three…?"

"And you didn't tell anyone because…?"

Zidane scowled. "Because I didn't fucking want to, alright? Geez, when did Baku die and make you boss?"

Blank bit back a retort, knowing it would only make things worse to retaliate when Zidane was in such a mood, so he played the old guilt card instead. "Your missus is gonna worry her tits off if she finds you gone."

He slumped further against the stone and his tail began a slow swing, left to right. "She's busy…"

Blank followed his gaze by standing on his tiptoes to peer over the parapet. Below, the Hilda Garde III was barely contained within Alexandria's biggest dock, its heaving bulk belittling even the Prima Vista II, and from it scuttled hordes of Lindblumese soldiers unloading supplies, courtesy of Regent Cid. It was a meagre stock when considering the amount of starving citizens – it was really just a gesture on Cid's behalf – but it wouldn't go unwelcome in any case, and might tide the people over until proper importations could be arranged. Garnet was below directing the soldiers herself, a rose among lilies in her scarlet gown.

"Too busy for you, huh?" Blank guessed correctly, watching the food being loaded onto carts.

Zidane growled.

"You're such a pussy," the redhead muttered, then pushed off the stone wall. "C'mon. Better give you a check up."

Zidane looked like he might protest, but relented and jumped off his perch with halting grace. He frowned slightly when Blank made a blatant show of noting his restraint and stomped toward the stairway, grumbling quietly.  
"Why're ya here anyways?" he said, frostiness evident in his tone even as it rang hollowly around the tower's insides. "Didn't you go back to Lindblum?"

"Aye," Blank replied, absently scratching beneath the linen bandana holding back his hair. "Boss sent me back to check up on things."

"…And by 'things', you mean Ruby?"

Blank blinked in surprise. "Uh, Ruby isn't in Alexandria. I got wind of the plague before it hit and got her outta here faster than a nymph chasin' ore."

Zidane's gaze hit the stone steps beneath his feet, stomach twisting with guilt.

"Plus," Blank continued, "Boss heard rumours of the civil war, y'know. Would've helped out but Regent Cid had banned air traffic and the borders were closed." He shrugged. "We were sittin' ducks. Anyway, boss told me to stay here to ah… assess your situation."

"_My_ situation?"

Blank poked a bandaged cut on his arm and Zidane winced helplessly.

Blank said, "Can't you take care of yourself for once?"

"Hey, I helped save the throne, didn't I?" Zidane defended.

"I said _yourself_, not the throne."

"I didn't know you cared," Zidane grumbled unaffectionately, and Blank snorted.

They returned to Zidane and Garnet's chamber, where Zidane had awoken a few hours previously. Zidane's tail was uncharacteristically inanimate and Blank was still shooting unsubtle glances at the genome's wounds. The guards saluted as Zidane passed them by and he nodded in half-hearted acknowledgment, then closed the door behind them.

Inside, the doors to the balcony were thrown wide and a late afternoon breeze stirred the gauzy curtains, bringing with it a promise of autumn. The bed was unmade; the sheets were a rumpled sea of off-white satin. There was a bowl of water on the bedside table, and some fresh bandages, and –

Zidane wrinkled his nose.

Lots and lots of Blank's potions.

"Don't look like that," Blank snapped, catching his look. "You think I _wanted_ to stay up two nights in a row mixing this shit up for you? Heard you stopped taking the medicine I gave you for the Iifa wounds, too. Are you trying to get yourself killed, or just trying everyone's patience?"

"Argh, alright _alright_ already, I'll take the stupid medicine if only to shut your goddamn whining," Zidane acquiesced curtly, dropping to the edge of the bed. He tugged off his shirt and launched it across the room. "Go on then, _Doctor_ Blank. What's your diagnosis?"

Biting down the general irritation that seemed to be a side effect of Zidane's uncooperative sulks, Blank appraised Zidane's wounds – and was genuinely surprised.

"She's good," he muttered.

"What?" Zidane snapped, absently scratching a swollen wound that had once been the temporary home of an arrowhead.

"Garnet," Blank said. "I didn't think white mages could heal wounds to such specification, but the flesh has bonded unnaturally fast – too clean to be an ordinary process…"

For the first time since he'd seen him, Zidane perked up a bit, eyes beaming with pride. "She's the best!"

"Doesn't mean you're free of infection though," Blank dismissed sceptically. "So you still gotta take them potions."

"But –"

"And if you don't, I'll get Garnet to tell me, and then I'll tell boss."

"Tattle-tale," Zidane whined with a pout, tail swishing with agitation. "How long was I out anyways?"

"Two days, I think."

"Shit."

"Why've you always gotta play hero, huh?"  
"I ask myself the same question daily," a voice agreed from the doorway.

Heads turned in its direction, and Garnet leaned against the doorframe with a slight smile on her face. The hand on her good arm rested lightly against her hip. She quirked an eyebrow. "Well?"

Zidane stood up quickly, albeit stiffly, his expression uncharacteristically sober. "Dagger…"

"Ah," Blank began with an awkward scratch of the head. "I'll leave you two alone…"

Garnet caught his arm on the way out and sent him a weighty look. "Thank you for the medicine. I appreciate it. If you ask for Sir Larrington he can give you a token from the treasury –"  
Blank snorted. "That sounds suspiciously like honest work to me, and Boss would totally kick my ass if it was. Just make sure he takes it, alright? I wrote down the dosage on the labels."

Garnet nodded and thanked him again. Zidane called, "See you later, man."

"Phhft, whatever," the redhead said as he closed the door behind him.

iv.

"Ah… so… How are you –" was all he managed before she squeezed the breath out of him with a hug that was far too strong considering her injured shoulder.

"You big idiot!" she cursed into his chest. "Was it really necessary to… to go and throw yourself in l-like that a-and…and…"

"Ah –ah! Don't cry! Don't cry okay?" Zidane pleaded as her voice began to break. He playfully tugged a lock of her hair. "Aw, c'mon, it worked out alright didn't it?"  
She pulled away and stared at him with large, watery eyes. "You were unconscious for two days!"  
"Um… I've been unconscious for longer…?" he tried.

"That's hardly a point, Zidane!"

"And I've been hurt much worse than this…"

"Zidane…"

"Alright, alright. I'm sorry, okay? It's just… I kinda feel like it's my duty to protect your kingdom; I had to fight, y'know? And when I knew you were in danger…"

Garnet shook her head. "Oh, it doesn't matter. As long as you're okay… And I know you wouldn't have just sat back and let it all happen…And, well, if it wasn't for you…" She cocked her head and ran a finger along his jaw. "Thanks."

He shrugged it off dismissively and said, "Hey, what happened to Freya? And Frately?"

Garnet looked thoughtfully at the ceiling. "Um, I didn't see them personally… Freya left a message with Steiner saying it would be unwise for the Burmecian squadron to linger as the king was somewhat against showing any political allegiances." She shrugged. "But Freya knows you and I personally so perhaps she convinced him that it was a personal matter. At any rate, she left before I could thank her."

Zidane scratched his chin. "I'll pay her a visit later. I owe her one, big time. What about Alexandria?"

She cast her eyes down. "Okay, I guess. The people don't hate me at any rate. I don't think they cared whether Dimitri got the throne or I remained. I suppose that's a good thing…"

He smiled reassuringly and went to draw her into another hug, but she held him at arms length to study his wounds, all business-like, so he let her.

His injuries peppered his bare chest and arms, a mishmash of swollen flesh over old scars, livid and raw. Through a practised eye she noted the speed at which they were healing. The arrowhead that had been lodged beneath his collarbone had left an ugly welt, yet was entirely uninfected, and through her magic she judged the flesh within was healing at an extraordinary rate. The cuts along his arm and the particularly nasty slash down his back was also recovering well. Yet an ambiguous unease stirred in her belly like a snake beneath a rock, and she gnawed her lip. True that immediately after he'd collapsed in the armoury she'd bombarded him with magic until help had arrived, and that she'd overseen his recovery personally, often alongside Beatrix, but it was strange because –

"What's wrong?"

She glanced up at him and found his eyes were flat with concern.

_Oh, who gives a damn, as long as he's alright._

"Nothing," she lied with a bright smile. "Just giving you a once over."

Zidane's worry dissipated into a lewd smirk and he tugged her onto the bed. "How about a twice over… and a physical, just to be on the safe side?"

"Ziddaannee, it's not even nighttime!"

"I don't see your point."

"I have to go back outside and oversee the distribution of rations!"

"It can oversee itself," was his flawless logic as he dragged her into a more accommodating position.

"I'm serious," she said, wriggling away so she could sit on her knees. "You know I can't – "

"Aren't you meant to be, like, resting your wounds or something?" he drawled as he lay down with his hands behind his head, eyeing her with a dopey grin.

The protest half formed on her lips became a giggle when his tail found a fold in her skirt and snaked around her leg.

"Let go," she snickered.

"Do you _really_ want me to let go?" She nodded. "Fine."

His tail withdrew and he rolled onto his side in mock-dejection, tail curling stubbornly around his ankle instead. She shuffled up to him on her knees and attempted to regain his attention by pulling the ribbon out of his hair. He ignored her, so she ran a finger along the length of the freshly healed wound on his back, making him shudder.

He turned back with another lopsided grin, but caught her worried frown before she could hide it behind another smile.

"Alright," he said, "what is it?"

She held her breath for a moment, having half a mind to tell him, but he looked so sweet with his unbound hair all ruffled against the pillows that the words were quickly swallowed for later consideration.

"Honestly," she reassured, "it's nothing. I was just worrying about your wounds, you know, like wives are meant to do. I think."

He looked like he intended to pursue the subject further so she quickly distracted him with a kiss, her long hair pooling against his torn chest as she wobbled to keep her balance on one arm. Noting her discomfort, he took her by the waist and lowered her onto her back, deepening the kiss while being careful not crush her injured shoulder, even as his free hand found a mischievous path up her skirt and along her thigh.

Just as Garnet began seeing swimmy stars, he abruptly pulled away. She stared up at him with disappointment, then hesitation, because his eyes were confused, eyebrows knitted into a frown. Before she could question him he dived down and lifted up her skirt like a maid airing sheets. She yelped in surprise and attempted to flatten the fabric but he wouldn't yield. One of his hands let go as the other still held part of the fabric aloft, and she felt a tickling on her right thigh and suddenly remembered –

"What the heck is this?" Zidane asked, peering over the lip of her skirt and dangling a small length of rope with his free hand. "It was tied around your thigh?"

She blushed. "Oh um… heh, well it's kind of embarrassing. You see… Would you kindly put my skirt down while I'm talking to you? Thank you. It's just that… when we sleep in the same bed overnight your tail… it curls around my thigh. Over the weeks I got used to it… and when you went away, well, I found I couldn't sleep without it. So I ah… tied a bit of rope around my thigh to substitute your tail and I guess I forgot to take it off this morning what with Uncle Cid's airship arriving…"

Zidane absorbed this for a moment, then said, "That is the weirdest thing you've ever said to me."

"Oh, be quiet," she rebuked, kicking him gently on the knee. "If you could learn to control that wretched thing I wouldn't have this problem in the first place!"

Zidane pouted. "My tail is wretched…?"

"Yes," she teased. "The most wretched thing on all Gaia."

He turned away and slid off the edge of the bed, lip quivering melodramatically. "Well. I see when I'm not wanted. I'll just go sleep outside and leave you with your rope – _ah_! Leggo!"

He stumbled back onto the bed as Garnet yanked his arm, sending him sprawling across the sheets. She leaned over his prone form and said, "Do you _really_ want me to let go?"

Zidane grinned wickedly.


	17. Thieves Prosper

Finaallllyyy…it's summer! No more work for two frickin' months! Ah, I'm so happy and so… lost. I have NOTHING to do? Well, that means I can spend the sunny days inside playing videogames and writing and … erm I mean, spend the sunny days making the most of the sun. (Am NOT a nerd).

That's if England even gets a bloody summer. Damn you unpredictable climate.

Enjoy! (And beware a lengthy chapter… and random, fast paced, plotless, filler-fluff … and advance apologies for any inaccuracies involving the monster, I think I bented a canon, heh)

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen**  
Thieves Prosper

i.

Garnet let her overstuffed canvas bag drop to the cracked tiles with a gratified sigh. As it toppled to one side, a few of her belongings escaped from a bulging pocket, but she left them for now, too baked by the sun to give a fig about a runaway hairbrush and sock. Smiling, she absently wiped beads of sweat from her brow while contemplating the golden owl perched as if in flight atop the stone archway.

Behind her, a certain thief who had sworn to the high gods he didn't need a map to locate the village because he had all the memory of a Grand Dragon, and who had then proved himself wrong and led them in circles for a good two hours beneath the scorching heat of the desert sun, grumbled something unintelligible for the millionth time since their arrival, and she, in turn, ignored him for the millionth time with a crisp smile.

She waited for only a minute, hands on hips and panting slightly from their brief walk up the roots (goodness she was getting unfit) before Harold Pathknower arrived, grinning to show all his cracked, yellow canines.

"Rally-ho, ootsider!"

"Rally-ho!" Garnet greeted enthusiastically. "How do you do?"

"Ahm brighter than a foontain in soonlight, lassie, ah'll tell ye that mooch. We be gettin' more an' more ootsiders 'ere lately, though I dinnae ken why. Oor hame is simple, is it no?"

"I think it's delightful," Garnet gushed. "And much larger than when I last visited. It's spread across the roots and to the cliff opposite!"

"Aye," the dwarf acknowledged. "'Tis spreading like fungoos oon a tree troonk."

"Would you happen to know if there's a room available at an inn?"

"I dinnae ken," Harold said. "Ye'll have tae ask Margaret Miller, oop the path an' right."

"Thank you."

"Would ye like help wit' ye bags, lassie?"

"Oh no, that's quite alright," Garnet declined with a sly smile. She replaced her scattered belongings then threw the bag over her shoulder without looking, and heard it being caught with a muffled curse. "I've got someone more than willing to carry my bags for me."

"Aye," the dwarf acknowledged with a befuddled scratch of his head.

Garnet breezed past him, still smiling, and heard a reluctantly muttered, 'Rally-ho' from her bag-carrier.

True to the dwarf's word, there were more 'ootsiders' than when the troupe had first discovered Conde Petie, years before. There was a profusion of red and white mages in particular, no doubt seeking new ingredients for potions or inspiration for spells among the alien environment of a new continent. There was a scattering of travellers too, laden with rucksacks and, she noted with a wry grin, a handful of couples, wanting to be wed on the Kirkboat, or so she would wager.

She shook that particular memory away with smile.

After a few helpful directions from passing dwarves, Garnet entered the inn and found Margaret Miller seated at a flat table in the centre of an ornate room, surrounded by other gossiping female dwarves. She got up upon spotting her guests and greeted Garnet with a hearty grin.

"Do you have a room available for a prolonged stay?" Garnet inquired politely.

"Aye, lassie, got one left. Coom along, ah'll show ye the way. One hundred Gil a night, if ye dinnae ken"

She bustled Garnet and her bag-carrier to a room along a corridor and up several flights of stone stairs, all open to the elements. Creeping vines laden with leathery leaves mottled the sunlight into pretty shapes on the floor, and cicadas lent a droning chorus to the heat. Another patron appeared from his room as they passed, and Garnet threw him a benevolent nod in greeting, which was returned likewise (alongside an approving stare at her legs, which went unnoticed by her but not by her bag-carrier, who growled something unpleasant under his breath).

"Here ye be," Margaret said, sliding brass keys around a ring until she located the right one. "Make yeselves a' home."

The room was small but surprisingly airy. Two small beds sat parallel to one another (she made a mental note to have her bag-carrier push them together later on) against a wall that was more window than stone. Beyond lay the splendid scenery of the mountainside, and upon a branch of a nearby tree a flock of brightly feathered birds whistled a foreign tune.

"Thank you," she said to the dwarf. "We'll pay once we've unpacked."

Margaret waved a podgy hand dismissively. "Nae roosh. Ye outsiders, always rooshing wit' ye monnae."

"Thanks again," Garnet chimed.

"Enjoy ye stay at oor hame town, and if ye need anything just ask, ye ken?"

With that, she closed the door, leaving the couple alone, and Zidane dropped all the bags on the floor with a gratified moan.

"It's really fucking hot," he observed while scratching his behind.

"We _are_ in a desert," she snipped, "in case you hadn't noticed."

"Are you _still_ mad at me?"

"…"

"I could've sworn we needed to head north…"

Garnet rubbed her temple. "Agh, don't start again, _please_. If you had just used the compass… Poor Choco nearly died of thirst because of your misguided delusions on navigation."

"That compass was _broken_. And Choco was fine. Me and him have –"

"- have been through worse. So you've told me."

Zidane tried on his best rueful expression and skirted her ankles with his tail. "Hey, don't be mad anymore, okay? We're on our honeymoon! It's meant to be a loving time… right?"

Garnet sighed, defeated by his blasted sorry eyes, as calculated as the expression might be. She planted a forgiving kiss on his nose. "You're right. Let's go explore! I want to see how Conde Petie has managed the increase in trade since the Mist War."

"That sounds suspiciously political to me…"

She grinned. "Hey, a promise is a promise! I wont talk about anything relating to royalty if you promise to stay out of trouble for a week."

He held a hand up solemnly. "My word is my word, my lady."

ii.

It had taken them some time to decide on the location of their belated honeymoon. In fact, Garnet had completely forgotten they had yet to have one until Zidane ardently (and repeatedly) reminded her that she'd promised him a vacation once the tribulations of him becoming prince consort had simmered down. She relented after just a few weeks and had somehow managed to convince, distract and bribe Steiner into letting her go abroad without an escort. It had taken the better part of a week and required a stern lecture or two from Beatrix, and even then Garnet had had to sneak out while he was on duty. Of course, Zidane relished every second of going behind her esteemed bodyguard's back, unhelpfully dubbing the fiasco: 'The Kidnapping: Part Three'.

They'd argued about where to go. Zidane had at first insisted on Lindblum, but Garnet had wanted to go somewhere a bit more exotic (she couldn't understand why Zidane wanted to go on vacation to a place he'd grown up in and knew like the back of his hand anyway). She suggested the Black Mage Village, but was turned down flat with no explanation. After some thinking, he listed off a barrage of stupid ideas, including Ipsen's Castle (a monster-infested labyrinth of upside down architecture? No thank you), Quina's swamp - of _all_ places (she threw him a long, steady look until he backed right off _that_ idea), and a floating island in the clouds he insisted was real. Then she just berated him for making fun of her and dismissed all his sulking defence thereafter.

Eventually, she decided on Conde Petie. She'd always had a soft spot for the quaint, bumbling town and its simple devotion to the elements, and it was one of few places in the world that didn't stir bad memories. He seemed a little reluctant at first, muttering something about their apparent aversion to thievery, but he agreed simply to deflect another argument.

"Where to?" Zidane asked, half interestedly peering through a gap in the village's foundations and into the dizzying canyon below.

"Let's see the new part of town! I can't believe how quickly the dwarves adapted to the sudden surge in tourist and business activity. If Conde Petie keeps growing it could become a state in its own right!"

"Dagger…"

"Heh, sorry! I'm just saying. Look at all the owls in the eaves! They're so cute…!"

Zidane nodded approvingly at her change of tone, and they began to duck, weave and stumble across the uneven patio of flagstones and archways, stumpy roots and drooping vines. Dwarves lumbered past at lazy speed, their relaxed demeanours and indolent hails making it unclear whether they were working, going anywhere or doing anything productive in general. Nonetheless, they were friendly and not half as guarded as Zidane remembered from his last visit.

The new buildings were much the same as the old, a higgledy yet charming mess of sun-beaten brick open to the elements. They trickled over Iifa's roots and onto the plateau beyond, merging with the oasis of flora that crept into the mountain paths. Garnet stopped to talk to a lot of people on the way, friendly and naively curious as ever, while Zidane contented himself with watching her bare legs from behind, revealed from the knee down beneath the hem of a ruffled white skirt she'd borrowed from Ruby for the occasion. Her dark hair was coiffed elegantly away from her neck, reminding him of the time she'd cut her hair.

As if on instinct, Zidane's head cocked slightly toward where the Iifa Tree still stood. Despite being on an elevated walkway and having a clear view through a rift in the stone, the mountains still blocked the view beyond, and Iifa with it. Regardless, memories flashed before his eyes like a hammer striking an anvil; he visibly blanched, seeing in double the roots that snaked after him with a life of their own, and the hollow, unexpected despair when Kuja's life force trickled through his fingers like grains of sand. Kuja's first and final act of benevolence as powerful white magic knit a strong shield around his form before –

"Zidane?"

Zidane jerked his gaze away, startled. Garnet blinked up at him with worried eyes, his hand in hers.

"Eh heh heh," he tittered sheepishly, scratching his head and withdrawing his hand. "Day dream."

She inclined her head, dark eyes searching his face for honest answers, but she found none so dropped the subject. "Want lunch?"

"Sure!"

"William just recommended a tavern. It's near the outskirts, this way."

The pub, known as 'The Boiled Owl', happened to be popular and was packed with 'ootsiders' and dwarves alike. Behind the bar, brightly coloured bottle packed shelves that reached from floor to ceiling, and the working dwarves scuttled up ladders to retrieve them with surprising dexterity. To the left of the bar a pair of doors was in constant motion, dwarves busting in and out with platters of food, hot and cold. Tables crowded a flat courtyard of colourful tiles that was the pub's main floor, slightly shaded from the beating sun by a network of creepers.

Garnet scanned the round wooden tables, searching for free space. Chatter rose up in a hearty drone and the mingling of desert heat and cooked food made her feel a bit dizzy.

"What d'ya want to drink?" Zidane asked, elbows propped against the bar as he squinted at the labels of bottled ale opposite. He was clearly unbothered by the fact it was so crowded, so she shrugged off her initial worries and said, "Anything sweet and refreshing. I'm going to _try_ find somewhere to sit."

She empathised the word 'try', wondering if he might pick up on the fact there probably wasn't any free tables, but he either missed it completely or really didn't care, so she left him to debate his drink selection.

But no sooner had she started pushing and squeezing through the maze of wooden chairs, tables, legs and scurrying food runners the sooner she realised that there actually wasn't a free table after all, and went back to tell him.

"Hey! Hey, you, girl."

Garnet slowed her return and let her gaze wander the nearest tables, wondering if the caller had been addressing her.

"Over here!" a man called, waving an arm and smiling in a friendly fashion. Garnet pointed at herself with a lame, "Me?", and the man nodded eagerly.

She approached the table. The man was stout man with a friendly, broad face dominated by a curly beard; equal amounts of hair spouted from the neck of his sweat-stained shirt. His eyes were shrewd but friendly. At his side was a woman of equal girth, who looked Garnet up and down repeatedly, and with obvious distaste.

"Yes?" Garnet said.

"You with the tailed boy over there?" he said, indicating vaguely to where the genome was ordering at the bar.

Garnet nodded.

"Well, you can sit at our table, if ya want. Me and the missus don't mind, got a massive table here to ourselves."

Garnet did note the size of the table, probably meant to fit eight at a push. There'd be plenty of room and enough noise surrounding them to keep a conversation private if they wished. She didn't see a problem, and didn't think Zidane would mind sharing a table anyhow, considering how compulsively chatty he was.

She took the chair opposite with a small smile. "Thank you very much, mister…?"

"Just call me Tomas," Tomas introduced brightly. "And this here is my missus, Josephine."

Josephine nodded curtly, eyes still shrewdly eyeing Garnet's much smaller, daintier frame in a manner Garnet now reckoned was jealousy.

"Nice to meet you both. I'm G – Dagger." _Best to play it safe_, she decided. The average citizen wouldn't recognise her walking the street in common wear, but there was no point throwing the name around. She nodded toward the bar. "That's Zidane."

Tomas scratched his oversized beard, eyes squinting. He shook his head then, no doubt dismissing any possible connection between the recently crowned prince consort of Alexandria and the scruffy youth scratching his behind at the bar. He said, "What brings you here, Dagger?"

She smiled coyly. "We're on our honeymoon."

Tomas laughed raucously and threw a jovial arm around his wife. "They get younger and younger, eh, Josie?"

Josephine smiled coldly, her eyes trailing to the approaching genome and his muscled arms. Garnet suppressed an amused smirk.

"Alright?" Zidane said, ignoring the strangers as he put in front of her a bright blue drink in a slender glass.

"What's this?" she asked, eyeing the curious substance with caution.

"Cornflower juice," he chirped, then mumbled into his flagon of ale, "and some other stuff…"

"What?"

"Ah, just drink it already, it tastes nice! Trust me." Upon suddenly noticing the couple staring at them, "Who are these guys?"  
Garnet cringed at his rudeness. "Zidane, this is Tomas and his wife Josephine. They kindly let us sit at their table."

"Huh," Zidane appraised with raised eyebrows. "Nice t'meetcha. What are you guys doin' all the way out here?"

Tomas grinned broadly. "We're ah… ingredient hunters."

Zidane slurped his drink. "Oh yeah? So like… you in the medicine industry?"

Tomas and Josephine exchanged wry grins. Tomas said, "Sorta. We're working for a guy in Treno. Sent us over here to pick up some rare bits and pieces, y'know… too busy to do it himself."

"Right, right," Zidane nodded sagely.

They bounced harmless conversation back and forth for the better part of an hour. Zidane and Tomas bonded through some ambiguous level Garnet couldn't quite pinpoint; their words sometimes seemed a bit cryptic. Josephine remained quiet despite Garnet's attempts to initiate conversation, though her disinclination to converse seemed to stem more from boredom than dislike.

For her part, Garnet enjoyed her drink and even ordered another. She wasn't stupid, though. Judging by the crafty smirk Zidane shot her upon ordering a second, she drank this one more slowly. Gods only knew what mixture of alcohol he'd had the barman put in it.

Zidane, on the other hand, didn't show half her restraint, and was already on his forth flagon by the time Tomas suggested a game of cards.

"You're on!" Zidane half-yelled with a fiery grin, slamming a palm onto the table. "What's yer game?"

"Tetra Master," Tomas replied simply, retrieving a deck of cards from the top pocket of his shirt.

Garnet groaned inwardly. Zidane was pretty awful at Tetra Master, even sober, and when it came to that particular game, he was a very, very sore loser. And much to her despair, Zidane hadn't broken his old habit of carting around his deck of tattered cards, and he brandished them with a one handed shuffle.

"What's the winnings?" he asked.

Tomas mulled this over with exaggerated deliberation, and for the first time Garnet's instincts began to prickle. She brushed them off though, scolding herself for harbouring such unwarranted chariness.

"What do _you_ want?" Tomas countered reasonably.

"Plain old Gil will do me," was Zidane's immediate reply. "You?"

"Well…" Again, that theatrical silence. "How about this. You have to do one thing for me. A request. Nothing big."

"Ah…" Zidane said, wrinkling his nose. "Past experience as a kid taught me that old guys who ask for requests –"

Tomas laughed loudly. "Ahahaha, no no. Nothing like that."

"What is it, then?"

"I'll tell you when I win."

"Zidane –" Garnet began but Zidane stirred in his chair, tail thrashing at the challenge as he sneered, "_When_ you win? Ha! Looks like I need to put you in your place, old man!"

Garnet sank further into her chair.

"Game on," Tomas said. "I hope you're not a sore loser."

iii.

"Shitfaced goat-fucking asshole. Where did Cerberus come from? That no-balled yellow bastard. He can go suck a goddamn dick, that was so fucking _unfair_."

"Zidane…" Garnet winced, and patted him on the back when he buried his face in his arms. "It… it's not that bad…"

"I'll be taking your Shiva card," Tomas said smugly, sliding the card from Zidane's pack as the genome clearly wasn't inclined to sit up and give it to him showmanship, like.

"Goddamn twat-faced son of a disease-ridden whore…"

"Ah, he d-doesn't mean it," Garnet amended quickly, but Tomas just laughed.

"Seen his like a thousand times," he bellowed good-naturedly. "S'alright, lad. I'm always game for a rematch –"

"Let's do it!" Zidane belted, jumping up and knocking his chair backward.

Before Tomas could answer, Josephine snipped at her husband, "Not today."

"My thoughts exactly," Garnet agreed. "Sit down, love."

Zidane righted his chair and grumpily plonked himself back down. "Okay, okay, you win, I guess. Now what's the stupid request?"

The feeling of unease pricked Garnet's senses again, and she listened quietly, one hand still on Zidane's back.

"So, you know how I said me an' Josie were, like, y'know… ingredients hunters, right?"

"Yeah…"

"Well, there's a certain ingredient that's eluded us so far. See, we're hunters, not fighters, and you look like you can handle yerself better than both of us put together. See what I'm gettin' at?"

"You want me to get an ingredient for you," Zidane concluded. "What and where is it?"

"Right outside Conde Petie," Tomas said with a conspiratorial grin. "It's the juice of a Cactaur."

Garnet frowned. "A Cactaur? Those green monsters that thrive in the desert?"

"Aye."

"I remember them," Zidane said, rubbing his chin. "They always ran away before we could get rid of them. Pesky little bastards."

"Pesky little bastards indeed," Tomas concurred. "I just need an arm or leg and then I can extract the juice later on. You up for the challenge, kiddo?"

Zidane nodded. "A bet's a bet! You comin' Dag?"

Garnet stood up, crossly muttering, "Darn right I'm coming…" and was suddenly very glad she hadn't finished her drink.

iv.

Unlike most members of the civilised public, Garnet didn't actually mind deserts. Heat didn't bother her as much as she knew it should do, and now she knew of her origins she wondered if it was courtesy to an upbringing amid such a desert, where the roads were scorched rock and the merchants shut shop during the hottest part of the day.

That said, Madain Sari – ruined or otherwise – was a far cry from a nothing-desert, devoid of life aside from the cacti that stood as lonesome watchman amid a sea of bruised rock. The stationary kind of cacti, of course, the other kind being notably absent thus far.

Garnet subconsciously worried for Zidane's exposed skin as she watched him blaze a path ahead, twirling a Mage Masher between his fingers as his eyes seared the landscape for their quarry. He'd said they'd find the Cactaur before the sun could even hope to leave its mark on his skin, but judging by their luck and his reddening shoulders and arms, she wished he'd just have the sense to cover up. She'd changed into leather breeches and a loose-sleeved shirt, knowing Nell and Briar would likely have a fit if their previously milky skinned queen returned sunburnt.

She glanced over her shoulder and spotted Choco trailing them inconspicuously. He hadn't taken Zidane's stern instructions of staying put very well, and was apparently intent on following whether the thief agreed or not. Garnet thought his loyalty sweet, but hoped Blazer Beetles hadn't taken a liking to chocobo meat.

"Zidane…" she called airily, "Don't you think Tomas was kind of… suspicious?"

Zidane snorted, and Garnet could picture a contemptuous smirk. "Only as suspicious as I am."

Garnet frowned and almost shook the comment off, but something about his tone urged her into questioning.

"Well, Tomas isn't a bad guy," Zidane explained matter-of-factly. "But… he isn't an honest working citizen."

"He lied, then? He's not an ingredient hunter?"

"Oh no, he didn't lie. He just… avoided a few truths." Zidane rolled his shoulders, still actively scanning for signs of prey. "He ah… he probably works for a synthesis shop, supplying poisons for weapons, or just poison in general."

Garnet gawped, then skipped a few steps to walk alongside him. "Zidane! Zidane, why didn't you _say_ anything! How did you get this information? I didn't hear him say that! And why did you go along with it all if you knew he was… a criminal?"

Zidane shrugged, eyes darting across the ground. "I've dealt with worse than him. So have you, for that matter. It's not a bad business, to be honest. Good money. Or so boss used to say."  
"But… but it's the dealing of _poisons_!"

Zidane glanced askance at her. "Why are you gettin' yourself worked up? Where do you think Amarant got the poisons for his claws?" He waved a dagger in front of her. "Where I get the poisons for the blades of Rune Tooth, and Sagittarius?"

Garnet hung back a way, cowed by her ignorance. It wasn't that she minded Tomas being a criminal. She might have once, when her perception of society dwindled into a contrived blur beyond the walls of her castle, but her travelling had left her open minded. And there was Zidane to consider too, who was technically a criminal anyway.

What bothered her was actively and knowingly participating in an illegal act. When she'd aided the theft (or something like it) of the Supersoft with Tantalus her conscious had not been burdened by the deed, simply because it was for a good cause, for Blank. However this current endeavour was the result of a lost card game, and Queen of Alexandria or not, aiding the supply of unlawful substances didn't sit well with her.

Garnet stopped in her tracks and crossed her arms. Zidane turned.

"What?"

"I'm not going any further," she said. "I wont be a part of this."

He looked confused. "It's really not a big deal… Boss used to have us do the same thing, y'know, collecting, shipping, dealing..."

"I don't care!" she snapped, waving her hands. "I… It's not me. You can go and get the stupid blood but I wont have anything to do with it. Who knows where that man will it sell it off to, what if the buyer is some kind of madman? Not to mention he's working for someone in Treno, which, if you rightly remember, is part of _my_ kingdom - "

"Hey, there's one now!"

Garnet barely had time to let out an indignant cry as Zidane charged past her, brandished daggers returning the sun's flares in flashing white lines. She placed her hands on her hips angrily, but ended up running after him anyway.

True to his hail (she thought he might have invented a monster that conveniently disappeared upon her arrival, as to evade her retribution), a green, spiny lump was burrowing through the sand. Zidane was hot on its trail, despite it not going all that fast, and at first it seemed to run away, but it stopped eventually, standing its ground to fight like any other monster.

Garnet's staff sweated in her gloved hands and her leather trousers chaffed unpleasantly against her skin as she came up alongside him, clearing her head to focus on the impending battle.

Zidane's grin was cocky as he twirled a dagger. "Heh, this is gonna be a piece o' cake! Hey, you! Come out and fight!"

The green blob skittered beneath the sand and Garnet watched it uneasily. She wished it would just go away. "I don't think you should provoke it, Zid. Can't you just kill it as it is and dig it out after?"

The thief wrinkled his nose. "Nah, that'd take, like, all afternoon. Alright, here I go!"

Before Garnet could concoct another reason to avoid any rash antics on his behalf, Zidane ploughed across the space between him and the monster and landed a savage stab to its revealed head. The thing made a muffled noise beneath the sand and a spray of acidic juice slicked Zidane's dagger purple.

"Gotcha!" he yelled triumphantly, and bounced back. "Come on, you bastard! You gonna hide there all day or am I gonna have to drag your spiny ass out?"

Garnet's gaze darted from the blood on his blade to the plate-sized spiny disc as it started moving rapidly in circles, and suddenly she smelt something like burning rubber and freshly cut flowers.

The spell erupted before she could prevent it; an explosion of purples and pinks dancing on the hot air like toxic butterflies. She cried out as Zidane staggered backward, struck by the spell but physically unharmed. She felt a flutter of relief, but the words questioning his well-being lodged in her throat as his body language took an abrupt turn.

He clutched his head with one hand, fingers that weren't gripping his dagger groping stupidly at his hair. He shook his head and blinked, uttering an undignified, "Ah… ah… uh… wha…?"

Garnet stumbled backward, cold with fear. "Zidane…?"

He blinked at her, eyes glazed and pupils dilated.

Then he attacked.

It was only through some primitive instinct that she dodged him, and she thanked the gods with all her heart, because knowing his strength as she did, it was some kind of miracle that he hadn't spilt her guts there and then.

Flat on her behind against the scorched rock where she'd gracelessly fallen to avoid his swipe, Garnet rolled away and regained her feet. Zidane's attack had carried him past her, but he was evidently confused (in a both literal and magical sense) and was all but tripping over his own two feet.

With her eyes firmly fixed on Zidane, and with not a minute gone since the spell was cast, Garnet's focus was understandably elsewhere when she suddenly remembered the goddamn Cactuar. Pain shot up the back of her right leg and she was brought temporarily to her knees by the sheer force of its head butt, spines as long as her little finger lodged in her calf.

She grit her teeth, sent a spontaneously tendril of magic to numb the pain, but didn't turn her back on Zidane, who seemed to be straightening up despite remaining under the influence of the Cactuar's spell. Right now, she knew it was far more dangerous to turn her back on the genome than it was to ignore a low-level monster.

Zidane's misty eyes didn't even focus as he charged again, his clumsy swipe more deadly than a trained soldier's coordinated one. Fully expecting the attack and grateful that his unearthly speed was censored by the confusion, she threw up her rod just in time and the dagger's blade took a chunk out the wood instead. He spun a neat circle, other dagger whistling down, but she twirled her staff and deflected that too, then used his momentum to let him stumble past.

With his back temporarily to her, she lashed out with all the force she dared use on her husband, knowing in the back of her mind she couldn't damage him much anyway. The heavy ball of her staff made a painful thwack as it met the flesh between his shoulder blades. Not hard, but enough to make the cry of pain he emitted sound less befuddled than before.

With a sigh of relief, she watched him straighten up, daggers limp at his side as he looked left to right, possibly more confused now than when the spell was in force.

He spun round and stared open mouthed at Garnet, wordlessly demanding explanation, but she rolled her eyes and gestured frantically at the green blob of –

_Oh_.

The spiny crown had morphed into a two foot high Cactuar, with eyes as black as a sharks and a mouth both mocking and incredulous in its shape. Its thick limbs jerked comically up and down despite it remaining immobile on the desert's earth and, she noted, it looked a little worse for wear, _and_ pretty miffed.

"Heh! That worked! It's out!" Zidane cried triumphantly, apparently oblivious to the spell he'd been under and now marvelling at his own genius.

"Leave it!" Garnet barked, hands beginning to tremble from her close shave with Zidane's daggers. "Please! Let's just flee already!"

Zidane scoffed. "No way! Look how weak it is! I'm goin' in for the kill, stand back, babe!"

"Zidane!" Garnet cried, but it was too late. The capricious thief lunged forward and sliced off the Cactuar's arm.

The creature's shriek was like a warbling bird as purple blood gushed from the stump of its dismembered arm and sizzled against the rock. But apparently even mush-brained walking plants hid beneath their leathery skin a tingling of vengeance, and before Garnet could shout a warning a white aura formed a hissing halo around its spiny head and it turned its attention, for reasons she was unsure of but resented nonetheless, to Garnet.

"You bastard!" Zidane yelled, and just as the Cactuar released whatever attack it had pending, he threw himself in front of her, arms outstretched.

v.

"Ow. Ow. Ow. Owwww. _That one really fucking hurt_."

"Good."

"… You could be a bit more gentle, y'know…"

"Mmm. You're right. I _could_ be a bit more gentle, couldn't I?"

"Ouch ouch ouch, woman! Alright, can you _please_ be a bit more gentle?"

"No."

"Ow."

"This is all your fault; you deserve it."

"That's – ow – mean. If I hadn't – ow – thrown myself in front of you, I'd be the one – ow – pulling needles out of _your_ skin! Ow!"

"Hmph. You should be lucky the name 'One Thousand Needles' is an exaggeration."

"Urgh… Well, it feels like a thousand. Didn't even get the stupid – ow – Cactuar juice for Tomas…"

"Will you forget about that already?"

"Ow. Ow. Owww."

"I wasn't even pulling any out of you that time!"

"Yeah… that last ow was my pride."

"Urgh… can we just have a normal honeymoon like a normal couple now, please?"

"This isn't normal?"

"Don't make me put the needles back in you."

"Heh heh, alright alright, I surrender. So… wanna go Zaghnol hunting tomorrow?"

"Not. Funny."


	18. Promise Of Rain

**Thank you thank you thank you for the reviews! Such nice messages to receive after returning from holiday! Made coming home to the rain that little bit better.**

**I wasn't going to do another honeymoon chapter, but people assumed there'd be another so I threw one in. It turned out to be mighty handy anyway, for a number of reasons. Also threw in a reference to Six Ways To Kill Perfection. You'll spot it a mile off. **

**Enjoy (a rather melancholy chapter)!**

* * *

**Chapter Eighteen  
**Promise of Rain

i.

The dream had been strange.

This was her first conscious thought as she woke sharply from sleep, with bright, fresh sunlight glancing across her pillow and the twittering of birds sweetening the morning's melody.

It was the dream that had woken her, but already the thoughts, feelings and images were slipping away like a fish into deeper water, out of reach. Strangely, she felt it was _important_ that she recall this dream, and Garnet had always been a strong believer of trusting her subconscious' messages (she even had reason to believe her Eidolons sent her subtle warnings and nuances both accidental and intentional via such means, though she felt this occasion was not such an example), so she fought hard against her dominating conscious and managed to scrounge some vague ideas: a sense of severe disorientation and anxiety, and the colour red. This colour could relate to anything, and though she felt strongly that the connotation was not positive, she could not pinpoint its origins. Her mind inevitably suggested blood and flames and anger and Kuja's Trance form (his fiery visage as he wrought destruction on Terra still haunted her dreams) – but was that too rash? Too cliché? Maybe not.

Too late, too late. The dream vanished, leaving in its place a feeling of disconcertion, as all strange dreams do, and she shoved it aside perhaps a shade too quickly.

Garnet moved beneath the cotton-white sheets, arching her back with a satisfied morning exhale. She sat up and blinked owlishly around the room, subconsciously searching for her other half.

She almost thought she was still dreaming when she saw him sitting on the windowsill. Never, _never_ had she seen him awake so early. But there he was, leg drawn up to his chest while the other dangled over the sill, his tail swishing lazy shapes against the stone wall. He was clumsily dressed, like he'd given up half way, and his eyes were uncharacterisically vacant as he stared at the pretty mountainscape of Conde Petie.

Uncertainly, she called his name.

Once.

Twice.

Three times, louder now, and then he looked over his shoulder, big blue eyes blinking in surprise. "Oh, hey." Then came the bright smile. "Mornin' gorgeous."

Garnet cocked her head, her own smile failing to camouflage her concern. "You okay?"

"Uh, yeah! …Why?"

"You… are never up this early."

He chuckled, sheepishly scratching his head. "The stupid birds woke me up. They're so _loud_. The dwarves must get no sleep; it's no wonder they're lazy."

She giggled. "That's not nice. Besides, _you're_ the lazy one. You sleep _all the time_."

He pointed an accusing finger at her. "Ahem. I believe you're the lazy one today. It's nearly ten, y'know."

Garnet gasped in surprise. "It _is_? So this is what happens when Beatrix isn't around to wake me up… I don't know why I'm so tired! Maybe it's the heat…?"

"I bet I know what it is," Zidane purred as he slunk off the windowsill and under the covers. "And it _isn't_ the heat."

She giggled again as his fingers walked up her thigh. She slapped them away with a playful, "_Don't."_

"I didn't hear you protesting last night…"

"Yes, but that was last night," she countered reasonably, wriggling into a comfortable position and rucking the covers up over her breasts. "Sit still a moment, would you?"

He grudgingly obeyed and starfished his limbs under the covers, blinking compliantly at the ceiling as she peeled back the sheets with unnecessary care. In the pallid morning sunshine she could make out the little bumps peppering his skin, the freshly healed wounds from the Cactuar's needles that had been painstakingly removed one by one. The spine tips bore traces of the monster's poisonous juices, part of what made the attack so painful; the juice was acidic and ate away the flesh in small, almost unnoticeable amounts, like a hundred spider bites. A quick spell nullified the poison and dulled the pain, but she had been surprised when, that same night, the multiple wounds had closed, showing no signs of infection or traces of poison and – most surprisingly – the flesh inside that had been corroded by the acid had healed entirely.

Upon her first inspection she almost didn't believe it and put it down to her own tiredness. Her subtle probing, both magical and physical, must have been wrong, and Zidane wasn't any help at all having brushed the whole incident off as an unproductive accident, and who made matters worse by refusing to keep his hands to himself for two whole seconds while she attempted a diagnosis.

And she might have dismissed the ordeal entirely as well, if not for her own left calf that had received the brunt of a Cactuar headbutt and multiple spines respectively. Her wounds hadn't healed to the extent his had – nowhere near – and she was a white mage, for gods' sake! There was healing magic pulsing through her blood! She knew from her travels that her and Eiko healed faster than their less white magically endowed comrades.

Zidane's newly developed healing capabilities were abnormal to say the least. Not a bad thing, of course, but abnormal nonetheless.

And Garnet wasn't stupid. She knew it had something to do with _that_. That Which-Shall-Not-Be-Mentioned. A subject she knew on some untouched subconscious level that should not be brought up in conversation, because it was more temperamental than a provoked Bomb. And while she didn't blame him for not wanting to speak about it, she wished he would just get it off his chest instead of hiding it away like a box of unsorted cluttered. After all, one can neither run from one's past or pretend it ever happened, and Zidane's sudden healing capabilities were damnable evidence of this.

Looking down at him now – his eyelids beginning to droop into a half-snooze – she considered again touching the subject of his hastened healing. He either hadn't noticed or was neck deep in denial, but either way, she decided now was not the time or place to pursue it. She'd let him come to her in his own time and meanwhile, she'd keep a damn close eye on it.

"What do you want for breakfast?" she inquired lightly, brushing blonde bangs out of his eyes.

He grinned sleepily up at her. "Eggs – sunny side up – bacon – six rashers – Lindblumese coffee with a ton of sugar, and a side order of you."

"I'm just a side order?"

"You're my side order at breakfast, light snack for lunch, main for dinner and all of my dessert."

"…Was that supposed to be romantic?"

"I'm not sure. Did it work?"

"Try again, Romeo."

"Challenge accepted," he said as he wrestled her back under the covers.

ii.

After lunch (having skipped breakfast altogether) Garnet somehow managed to convince Zidane to take a walk with her. On any other occasion he would have in no way shape or form agreed to something so mundane. To Zidane, everything had to have a beneficial means to the end, and merely suggesting a walk for the sake of scenery bored him half to death before he was a foot out the door. But Garnet was insistent. She liked exploring the pretty tiers of the mountainside, and used said exploration as leverage for her argument, and when he was half swayed she added a few hours of swimming in the quiet springs that snaked round and round the rocky edges, and that sold it.

Now they walked side by side along a wide, beaten path, flanked on both sides by shoulder-high ferns, explosions of colourful flower heads, bright birds and leathery trees. Garnet enjoyed the scenery and Zidane scanned the foliage for signs of looming adventure. They passed couples like themselves often, newlyweds mostly, on their way to the 'Sanctuary', and dwarves too, who now resided on the outskirts of the original settlement.

"Do you think the Hilgigars are still around?" Garnet questioned curiously.

Zidane shrugged. "Maybe. There are a few of 'em, aint there? They're no big deal, though."

"Maybe not to you," Garnet said, "but what about these people? I doubt they could take on a thirty foot monster like that…The dwarves should put up warning signs."

"Hey, don't worry about it. I'll sort 'em out if we bump into any."

He'd missed the point but she couldn't be bothered to reiterate it, so she pulled him over to a tangle of vines, thicker than a man's leg, and climbed up onto a grassy ledge. There was a small shrine here, built by the dwarves to honour the sun. Smaller vines had partially reclaimed the sandy stonework, and the ledge was trimmed with wild flora. From this elevated outcropping she could see Iifa, imposing as ever even from such a distance. Though she could still make out the gargantuan canopy, she wondered if it was dying with no Mist to sustain it. Was it so closely related to its smaller kin that it could live on just soil and water and sunshine? Or was it a purely Terran creation and therefore biologically inept to cope and evolve when faced with a sudden change of purpose?

Zidane hoisted himself onto the ledge a few moments later and looked briefly disappointed when met with a dead end. His eyes scanned the outer edge of the cliff but deemed it unclimbable, and took a seat next to Garnet, who'd drawn her knees up to her chest and had rested her chin there, staring dreamily at the rolling landscape below.

"Isn't it beautiful?" she sighed, relishing the sun's warmth on her face.

"Yeah, I guess," he droned, and his tone made her glance sideways. He wasn't looking at the landscape at all, but pulling clumps of grass from the soil distractedly, almost aggressively. The grass ripped from its roots, and a small pile of crunched up strands was steadily growing behind him. Something about that uprooted pile made her insides crawl, but she couldn't for the life of her figure out why, nor did she give it time for contemplation.

"Are you okay?" she asked, straightening her legs. "Don't you want to be here?"

He looked at her, surprised. "Of course I want to be here!"

"No, I mean, _here_." She gestured to their sitting spot. "We can get down, if you'd prefer."

He shook his head resolutely, but resumed his wayward demolition.

She smoothed down a crease of irritation, and connected the dots in her mind. Haltingly, she probed, "Is it the Iifa Tree?"

He paused. "Maybe…"

"We can get down -"

"I said no!" he snapped. Out came another chunk. Soil flew like brown bugs.

She wished she hadn't insisted on their walk. "Sorry…"

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, clearly agitated. "Ah, don't be sorry, okay? It's not your fault. Just forget about it."

She ignored this. Instead,tentatively, oh so tentatively, she queried,"Is it about… _him_? About… Kuja?"

He bristled at the name; his tail thrashed once to the right, fur stirring. He rolled his shoulders as if he could physically shrug off the feeling, and for a moment his emotion was so palpable she could almost be fooled into feeling it too.

Stumbling, he said, "Would you… would you call me crazy if I… wished he was still alive?"

She couldn't apprehend her pause, but she tried to sound convincing as she said, "No. No, not at all…"

"'Cause I do, y'know. Like, every day."

As his words sunk beneath skin level Garnet felt a surge of anger, despite her partner's obvious discomfort. This was _Kuja_, for gods' sakes. The man destroyed her kingdom, started a war that killed innocents in their hundreds, _murdered_ her _mother_. And Zidane knew all this better even than Garnet – he was _there_ – and yet he dare say to her he wishes the tyrant was still alive?

It was hard, but Garnet reined in her selfish anger. It bubbled like a soup bought to simmer, but it was quelled enough so she could think about what Zidane was saying. Even then, she couldn't quite figure it out, and had to ask anyway.

His tail thrashed again. The picked grass was swept into an unruly mess. "I can't… It's hard to… to put into words…" he stammered, and Zidane never stammered. "It's not a case of missing him. I just wish with all my heart that he'd been given a second chance." Lamely, he added, "He wasn't a bad person."

Her anger frothed enough so she couldn't resist a jabbing, "Hundreds would beg to differ."

Zidane stood up and stalked to the precipice of the ledge without looking back. She cursed inwardly and sprung after him, catching his arm before he could descend the vine-ladder.

"Sorry, _sorry_, come back. I shouldn't have… It's hard because… It's just I don't understand what you mean… I should listen better. I'm sorry, okay? Please sit back down and talk to me."

Eyes still averted, he complied with her request, and leaned back on his hands. The insects droned and a murmur of conversation drifted up from one of the lower pathways as a couple passed beneath them.

"Why do you feel that way?" she asked, then hastily added, "I wont interrupt this time."

"I told you," he said, testily. "I can't really explain it properly. It's weird. I've… never felt this way before." He paused. "I remember when Garland told me Kuja was… like… my brother, or something. He said he and I were a lot alike and I remember getting so mad. 'Shut up!' I said, 'We're nothing alike!'. But now, in retrospect, I see that he was right… about everything."

Garnet bit her lip. Her initial response – _sweet gods I would never have married a man like Kuja you're nothing alike _– was shoved aside so she could contemplate a different perspective. Was Kuja and Zidane really similar? It was hard to draw comparisons when the narcissist of the two still plagued her nightmares and gave her chills. Just thinking of that mocking smirk, the aristocratic mannerisms, the acidic poetry that came to his lips as deftly as the scorching magic he wielded – no, she couldn't pretend. She was glad he was dead, and nothing would change that, even Zidane.

"If things had been different," Zidane went on, "he would've been a better person. But he couldn't deny his purpose – not entirely. I think… Garland was bad to him. Kuja was lonely and rejected. He had no one. No father, no siblings." He laughed bitterly. "Kuja did me a favour when he dumped me on Gaia… If I hadn't grown up with Boss… I would've ended up just like him…"

"Don't say that…" she insisted softly.

But he shook his head. "It's true! Y'know… ever since Memoria I've started remembering stuff from when I was a kid on Terra. Nothing significant, 'cause I was only little, but still stuff I'd forgotten…"

Garnet was almost afraid to ask, but she did, because he wanted her to.

He shrugged, still unwilling to meet her eyes. "Ah… Stupid stuff, really. Reading books. Loads of books. I hated it. Monsters in the dark. Running circles around Garland. But… mostly I remember Kuja. He was, I guess, my only friend in Bran Bal. He wasn't nice to me, but I always looked forward to his visits. I didn't understand properly back then, what he was and what he was supposed to do – or my relevance in the grand scheme of things. Anyway, I'd always find stuff and learn things I'd hope would impress him, just so he'd stay longer. He was always so aloof… but… he never hurt me, y'know… He always put up with my babbling…"

He trailed off. Garnet stared at him. She found it hard to believe the barbarous monster that shook her world apart had a softer side – a side he unconventionally showed to Zidane, of all people.

"He was sorry in the end," Zidane finished dejectedly.

Garnet didn't say anything. She looked out at the Iifa Tree, where said genome was buried. It was an extravagant tombstone, if anything, she thought. Kuja might have appreciated it, but then, what did she know about him? Very little, it seemed.

"I guess… we have him to thank for us being together," she tried hesitantly. "If it wasn't for him… we wouldn't have met."

"I wouldn't be alive at all if it wasn't for him," Zidane pointed out. "None of us would be. He got us out of the Iifa Tree, afterall."

Garnet nodded sagely, wondering if one gesture – albeit life saving – could make up for the suffering of a nation. She would never forgive Kuja for what he'd done to her mother and kingdom, but for Zidane's sake, she could bury old grudges and be thankful for the rights that emerged from so many wrongs.

She felt his hand over hers and looked askance. He was smiling wanly.

"Thanks for not calling me crazy."

She smiled. "I don't think you're crazy at all. Reckless, daft and lazy, sure – but not crazy."

"Heh. So… ah… Now the emotional interrogation is over, how 'bout that swim?"

"Sure!"

"Skinny dipping, right?"

Garnet didn't know what that was, so just nodded to appease him (missed the smirk completely), and clambered down the vines, mind still whirring.

For the first time since she'd woken, the unsettling feeling from her dream sifted to the surface of her mind in a sudden, entirely involuntary burst, and she frowned. Until now, she'd forgotten about the silly nightmare, but Zidane's admission must have drawn parallels with it somehow, for though she could not recall the precise content she felt it had something to do with _all that_. Kuja, Terra, the war, Garland, Zidane.

It wasn't unsurprising. She'd had nightmares about it all before and she knew Eiko had too, after a sheepish admission that had just about broke her heart. But the timing seemed a bit convenient, and she was suddenly struck by a feeling of helplessness and desperation.

She caught up with Zidane – always a few strides ahead – and slid her arms around his waist and pulled him into a tight, desperate embrace.

"Ah… you alright?" came his bewildered response.

"Yeah, fine."

_Eidolon's curse you, Garland, you better not take him away from me or I swear I'll find you in the afterlife and kill you all over again._

iii.

"I'm confused," she admitted, not long later. "Why do I have to take my clothes off?"

"Because you agreed," came the simple reply from somewhere below her.

"I… don't remember agreeing to _that_," she said slowly. "In fact, I'm absolutely positive I would never, in a million years, agree to taking my clothes off in public."

"Nuh-uh! You totally did. I asked if were goin' skinny dipping and you said yes!"

"How was I meant to know what skinny dipping was, you scoundrel! It's besides the point anyway, because I'm not doing it."

"Aww, you're not coming in?"

"I didn't say that," Garnet countered, pulling off her dress.

She'd made sure the area was absolutely clear of people; she had chosen the sheltered location herself. It was some way off the track and very close to where the spring originated from the mountain. She wasn't going to take her clothes off completely, but she didn't fancy tourists spotting the Queen of Alexandria swimming in her underclothes either.

Once undressed, she teetered over the side to peer down at the pool a short distance below. She spotted Zidane immediately paddling on his back in lazy circles. There didn't appear to be any rocks, and Zidane had made the jump alright, but then again he did have a knack for avoiding death so she couldn't vouch her own safety in comparison to his.

But Garnet shrugged inwardly, thinking nothing could be as bad as the time she'd got thrown off the Prima Vista onto a forest floor, and dived.

She cut through the surface neatly but came up gasping from the cold. Zidane was waiting for her with a big grin on his face.

"Cold, right?"

"Y-you could've warned me!"

"Where's the fun in that?" he sniggered, and swam wide circles around her. "It's not so bad once you get used to it anyways."

"I guess so," she relented, and began to hesitantly stroke through the water.

She had to admit, it was nice. The tropical heat was held at bay by the clear water, and the dense greenery framing the spring provided some illusion of privacy. The sky was a diamond of blue above the jagged lip of the cliff edge and insects buzzed companionably in the canopy. Garnet rolled onto her back to stare blankly above, her thoughts simmering into a pleasant lull.

Zidane appeared beside her then, hand resting under her back to keep her afloat as he kicked for the two of them. He smiled down at her, his demeanour noticeably relaxed, and pale reflections rippled across his skin to make his eyes look crystalline.

"Hey, Zid…"

"Mmm?"

"You'd tell me if something was wrong, right?"

"With what?"

"Just… anything."

"Of course!"

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

"…Zidane?"

"Mmm?"

"…"

"What?"

"Have you undone my corset?"

"Mayybbee."

"…"

"…"

"You're such a pain."

"Oh, you love it."


	19. The InLaws

Argh, just realised I've fluffed up the stupid chapter order. I forgot the prologue doesn't count as a chapter and I've been listing the chapter numbers wrong since chapter ten! Or eleven. I'm confused now. Anyway, I know I wrote the last chapter as 'eighteen' but it's not. THIS is chapter eighteen. Confused? Me too. And I'm the friggin' writer!

By the way, if you pick up on any grammar mistakes, please point them out specifically! I write fanfiction to improve my ability, and feedback is extremely important in helping me improve! Don't be afraid to point out mistakes (not typos). Thank yooouuu! (And thank you again for last chapter's lovely reviews, you guys rock 'n' roll.)

I think this chapter has, like, ALL my favourite fanfic writing subjects. I needn't list them, you'll find out when you read it! This chapter is purely filler for my own (and hopefully your) entertainment only.

(Aaaannnddd cue Blank!)

* * *

**Chapter Eighteen**  
The In-Laws

i.

It was called the 'Hangman's Retreat', and if the name didn't say it all then the man sprawled insensate outside its door certainly did.

"Are you _sure_ this is the place?" Garnet inquired quietly as she took a step back from the unfortunate fellow.

Zidane blinked at her in surprise. "Of _course_ I'm sure, what kind of a question is that?"

Obviously he'd missed the hope in her tone, and with his affirmation her internal organs took a plunge. Then again, what exactly had she been expecting? Was she really surprised? This was Zidane, afterall. Surprise would have been justified if he'd taken her to some fancy place with silver service and a cellar of vintage wine.

No, she wasn't surprised, really. Just morbidly reluctant. She'd successfully managed to disassociate herself from the darker side of Treno during her numerous visits, but she'd had no idea that Lindblum had this kind of underside too. Maybe Tantalus had given her a false pretence of what unlawful citizens were like. Zidane's mannerisms and attitude had been… shocking to her when they'd first met, but compared to people like –

"'Scuse me, love," a bleary eyed stranger slurred as he jostled past her and – _oh eidolons help me_ – through the doors into the Hangman's Retreat.

"You're _sure_ this is the right place," she stressed, and Zidane threw her an annoyed look.

"_Yes_, already. Geez. Are you coming or what?"

And then he stepped right over the unconscious man, as if stepping over a dirty doormat, leaving Garnet staring dumbly after him. On any other occasion she might have taken a moment to ponder the inhumanity of it all, but there were plenty of _conscious_ men lingering in the darkness of Lindblum's backstreets, so she hurriedly hopped after him and into the amber glow of one of the dingiest pubs in the Industrial District.

Inside, it was absolutely rammed. The pub itself consisted of three tiers, all connected by flights of rickety wooden stairs that had more than a few holes knocked through them and splintered arches that might have been banisters in a past life. Each floor was a mess of large wooden tables, all occupied. The bar extended the length of the ground floor and was mostly obscured by those hollering orders at the staff. It was rowdy, intolerably noisy, and it stank of sweaty bodies and stale beer, and there was a thick smear of cigarette smoke whirling like Mist around the ceiling rafters, suffocating in its pungency.

As an impervious Zidane weaved his way through a phalanx of bodies (not without a degree of required violence, she noted) Garnet used his tail as a lifeline to aid her through this foreign maze. He flicked it once in involuntary irritation, but let her cling to it, perhaps sensing her unease.

_Of all the places_, Garnet couldn't help but think.

The queen wasn't so aristocratic in her ways to think herself above such people, but she would've liked a less disorderly atmosphere to meet with her in-laws for the first time since their wedding. However, it was her father-in-law's decision to come here so she dared not suggest otherwise (Zidane outright refused to disobey his orders so she was stuck anyway) and she optimistically thought it might do her good to experience an entirely different class to her own. Perhaps it might even be a welcome change.

They braved the stairs and as they breached the second level (as packed as the first) they picked their crew out of the crowd, or more, their crew picked _them_ out of the crowd.

"Queenie!" came a tremendous roar and Garnet jumped out of her skin.

_Sweet gods I could hear him above this racket,_ she marvelled as the rabble grudgingly parted to reveal a round table laden with empty flagons, and circled by Zidane's 'family', Tantalus.

It was Baku who had hailed her (apparently Blank's silly nickname had caught on at a more infectious rate than Dagger) and she smiled at him from across the table, not trusting her voice to carry quite like his had. The mountainous man was leaning back against a wooden chair, a flagon of amber liquid in one hand while the other stroked his beard. He chewed thoughtfully on a cigar three times the size of Garnet's thumb.

"Gwahaha!" he thundered, and pointed at Zidane. "How's it feel it to be back, boy?"

"Good, Boss," Zidane chimed dutifully, then dropped to a chair between Cinna and Blank, leaving Garnet lingering uneasily behind him.

"You fuckin' asshole!" Blank snarled. "Get your woman a goddamn chair! What the fuck's wrong with you?"

"Oh, no, I'm alright –" Garnet began quickly, but Blank cut her off.

"Shut up, you aint alright! You gonna stand there the whole night?"

"I was just gonna get her one if you gimmie a fucking second," Zidane snapped.

"Like hell you were!" Blank retaliated. "You still aint movin'!"

"I'm just about to –"

"Here ya go, darlin'," a voice interrupted from behind them.

Garnet turned and smiled brightly at Ruby, who was nudging her gently with the leg of a wooden stool. Garnet's eye involuntarily flicked to Ruby's breasts, all but exposed behind two bolts of purple fabric, and – dear gods – Garnet wasn't sure if she was wearing a skirt or a belt to cover her nether region; it was so short it could have been either. Yet despite this daring aversion to covering up, Ruby managed to pull it off with style, if not class.

The older girl winked, sky-blue eyeshadow briefly catching the amber lights as she rolled her eyes and sighed, "Men, right?"  
"Thank you," Garnet said, taking the stool and edging around the table to squeeze into a small gap between Blank and Baku. Opposite sat Cinna and Marcus, and on the otherside of Baku Ruby reclaimed a seat. There were playing cards on the table (not of the Tetra Master sort, thank the gods) and a selection of different sized glasses, all empty. Luckily, she had a wall to her back, meaning she could survey the drunken mob filling the pub without the fear of someone creeping behind her.

Before she could start conversation, Baku slammed a hand flat on the table and pointed at Zidane yet again. "You arrived just in time, kid! Gwahahaha!"

"Round two?" Zidane suggested hopefully, and as reply Marcus gathered the cards and conducted a one handed shuffle with more skill than Garnet could have credited his blunt fingers, yet the smirk on his face was wicked.

"Blank lost the last round," Ruby remarked with a challenging quirk of her perfectly shaped eyebrow.

Blank scowled but said nothing, knowing better than anyone that arguing with Ruby would result in worse consequences than stumbling into a nest of Grand Dragons unarmed and slathered in raw meat.

"You in, queenie?" Marcus asked as he began flicking cards across the table.

"Ah… oh, no no, I've never played –"

"We'll teach ya!"

"Honestly, it's fine," she insisted.

"Nope, yer in," Baku abruptly levelled, and it certainly didn't leave much room for argument, so she could only comply. "I'll help ya out," he added helpfully. "Boss don't play against his own gang, afterall. Gwahahaha! Ruby, get us some more drinks, would ya?"

The actress pouted, but – again – there was no arguing with the boss, and she got up and swaggered away (Blank momentarily losing concentration as his eyes dutifully followed in her wake).

The game was Duke's Hand, and it seemed every member of Tantalus was eager to relay the rules to the inexperienced queen, most of all Zidane, who claimed it was his right as husband to teach her how to play and argued against Blank's every tip. In the end, they had to make way for Baku, who explained it with surprising clarity and promised to aid her if she got stuck.

Not long after the cards were dealt and Garnet was considering her hand with hesitant elation, Ruby returned, expertly balancing seven drinks on a tray with one hand. How she hadn't managed to spill them while wrestling through the rabble Garnet had no idea. She plonked various drinks in front of specific people, and Garnet was given a flagon of bubbling amber fluid.

"What's this?" she whispered to Baku, who sniffed it and said with a grin, "Cider."

"Oh," Garnet said, but when she took a dainty sip she deemed it not that awful, aside from the after taste, which could only be compared to vomit. It was thirst quenching however, and Garnet was beginning to work up a bit of a sweat in the intoxicating pub. Shyly, she shrugged off her coat to reveal the low cut red dress Zidane had insisted was fashionable in downtown Lindblum, but her self-consciousness wasn't warranted anyway; the girls surrounding her were much more scantly clad. And as she surveyed them in greater detail she began wondering if they prostitutes, and wondered if it was rude of her to stare.

"Bets in!" Cinna chimed, and clunked ten gil on the table.

"Cheapskate," Zidane accused, rummaging through his own pockets to fish out thirty gil.

It went round the table, and Garnet tentatively placed her own bet (twenty gil, just in case they thought she might be flashing her money), and by the time they were fifteen minutes into the game she started feeling a bit woozy and realised with horror that she'd actually finished her drink. What a terrible impression to make on her in-laws! But they didn't seem to notice at all, and were actually on their way to a third round, so she tentatively ordered another cider.

ii.

The game finished, and much to Zidane's chagrin, Blank raked in his pile of money with a very smug smirk.

"I lost…" Garnet mumbled lamely, staring at her cards fanned out on the table.

Baku roared with laughter. "Course you did! You were playin' fair."

"Huh?"

Baku gestured round the table and Garnet followed his gaze. All of a sudden the Tantalus members were producing cards from various hidey-holes left right and centre – sleeves, cuffs, pockets, even collars!

"You… you all cheated!" she gasped, horrified (and somewhat in awe) despite herself. "But… but how can you even play if you're all cheating?"

"The challenge is who can cheat who best," Blank explained matter-of-factly.

Garnet sank into her chair, blowing a strand of hair from her face, and Zidane winked good-naturedly at her from across the table. She pulled a face, suddenly realising how Blank had managed to win every card game she'd ever played against him. Those sneaky thieves!

Nevertheless, she was finding it hard to conjure any style of emotion when the world was swathed in a blanket of pleasant warmth. Her head was all swimmy and the previously intolerable racket was now an endurable hum to chorus her slurred thoughts.

"How ya holdin' up, queenie?" Cinna chortled from across the table.

_Oh dear_, she thought when she realised she was leaning to one side quite a bit, and perhaps it was out of kindness (or pity) that Blank hadn't shoved her away already.

"Fine," she replied with a controlled tenor. "Probably shouldn't have… had that last one… but… I'm _fine_."

"Dagger's a lightweight," Blank hissed across the table and Baku guffawed vigorously. Garnet kicked the redhead under the table.

"Speakin' of lightweights," Baku suddenly said, slamming his palm onto the table as his mischievous gaze rested on a certain tailed thief, who, like the rest of Tantalus, was finally feeling the effects of powering through pint after pint.

Zidane's expression dropped, the words of protest forming on his tongue, and, bemused, Garnet's gaze flicked to Blank, who had pointedly turned his empty flagon upside down and was shaking the last droplets onto the table with a devilish grin.

"Your round!" Marcus and Cinna chimed as one.

"What? No way!" Zidane whined, then he threw a sneaky side glance at Blank. "And anyway, I can't go order at the bar."

"Why?" the redhead shot back, expression taking none of Zidane's nonsense.

Zidane rolled his eyes suggestively. "Becaaauuseee. You knoooww…"

"No. I haven't become a fucking mind reader since you've been away."

"I can't 'cause… have you seen… you know… behind the _bar_." He rolled his wrist and flicked his eyes again.

Blank's expression clicked into place and he nodded his head gravely. "_Ooohhh_. Yeah. Right. Probably best not to ah… go there."

"You're awful," Ruby accused (the only one who still seemed to be holding her liquor).

Cinna sniggered into his hand.

"What?" Garnet asked, innocently confused.

Baku patted (or more, thumped) her on the shoulder. "Pay no attention to them, queenie."

Garnet shrugged. "It's fine. I'll go to the bar and… and order, if you want. If um… someone comes with me? It _is_ our round."

"Hear that?" Zidane said with a grin. "_Our_ round. This is why it pays to be married."

"I'll help you out," Marcus offered, standing up.

Garnet squeezed around the table and just before she plunged into the crowd Zidane's tail caught her ankle. He threw a half-worried, half-drunk glance over his shoulder and said; "Shout if you need me, right?"

She rolled her eyes at his worry, but she had no intention of leaving Marcus' side, even if it meant following him to the bathroom. Now that she was actually standing she realised that, well, it was actually quite _hard_ to stand – and why were her legs being so darn uncooperative? And, sweet Ramuh, when did it become so hard to _focus_? Her thoughts formed barely intelligible musings a heartbeat later than normal as innumerable faces swam past her. She could only cling to the back of Marcus' shirt as he barrelled through the mob – a mob that had become increasingly more raucous than before, when the night had been young.

She just about managed to stumble down the stairs before she was squeezing her way into a denser throng. The bar was the busiest part of the entire pub, and she was elbowed too many times to count and groped enough times to kindle a small spark of hostility in her usually passive soul.

"_Excuse_ me," was as rude as Garnet got, though she did manage a suitably rough jab at a man's side as she wormed towards the front of the bar. It wasn't that Garnet didn't respect the etiquette of queuing – it's just that other people clearly didn't.

Marcus was already at the front and she somehow squeezed in beside him.

"You know the orders?" she half-yelled into the ear of the older thief, so as to be heard above the ruckus.

Marcus shrugged, so she could only hope that was an affirmative. Regardless, she managed to wave down one of the bar staff (with no help from Marcus, who seemed to find her worried, amateur ordering tactics quietly amusing). The staff in question was an extremely curvy lady with a white blouse cut devastatingly low. Her long hair tumbled over one shoulder in a cascade of red curls, pretty enough to elicit a pang of jealousy in Garnet. The woman – no not woman, she couldn't have been much older than Garnet – chewed gum loudly and raised a pencilled eyebrow.

"Yeah? What'll be?"

Garnet went to order, then abruptly remembered she didn't know what to order, and shot a pleading look at Marcus, whose mug was split by a wide, curiously wry grin.

"Two Spiced Molt's, one Jack – no ice – one Thorn, one Black Crow, one apple juice and Koda – _with_ ice – one Sister's and seven shots of abnoth. Got that babe?"

The redhead pursed her lips and sent him a snarky glare. "Sure, _babe_." She turned and plucked a glass from a shelf beneath the counter, then turned back to pour something from a tap, and it was then that she sharply remarked, "And by the way, you can tell _him_ that I haven't failed to notice his sorry-ass hiding up on the second floor. He must've sneezed out whatever brains he had left to let him swagger back in here with his head held high like he's grown a twelve-inch cock. The bastard can at least say sorry."

Garnet stared at her, dumbfounded, and Marcus tittered uneasily. "Uh, y-yeah. Sure…"

Then the girl's sharp gaze abruptly swerved to Garnet and flicked up and down with unmasked distaste. Garnet recoiled, taken aback by the unjustifiable animosity behind her dark eyes.

"And who are _you_?" the barmaid spat. "No wait, let me guess, his brand new fling, right?"

"Who are you talking –" Garnet began but Marcus cut her off.

"Don't worry about the drinks, queenie. You go back upstairs."

"But –"

"No arguing."

"Um…"

"Yeah, toddle back upstairs, hun," the redhead snapped as she poured another pint. "_You_ can tell him for me."

"What? Who?" Garnet bleated, utterly confused.

"No-one!" Marcus tried to overwhelm the pretty barmaid's answer, but Garnet heard it anyway.

"That good-fer-nothin', cheatin', thievin' monkey _Zidane Tribal_!"

iii.

If Blank's slurred, "Soooo busted, man" hadn't given it away, then Zidane's open, utterly petrified expression was practicality a declaration of his guilt.

"Uh… Hey, babe…Wassup? "

Garnet's scowl didn't budge.

"So… meet my ex, huh?"  
Garnet slammed the drink she'd carried upstairs onto the table and it toppled sideways, wetting all the playing cards and Zidane's pant leg. Then she turned on her heel and stomped back the way she came.

"Heh heh heh, how many times have we seen _this_ scenario," Blank joked drunkenly. "At least she was nice enough not to tip the drink over your head, like they usually do."

"Shut the fuck up!" Zidane yelled then jumped up to follow her.

Unfortunately the crowd has managed to increase in numbers and while the smaller Garnet had little trouble wriggling through various limbs (and with the men not as inclined to shove her away), Zidane didn't have half her luck. Instead, he had to resort to worming toward the banister of the second floor to survey her retreat to the exit.

"_Dagger_!" he bellowed across the pub, but she either didn't hear or was ignoring him, and he hung his head in defeat.

Downstairs, the floor was flooded with people taking advantage of the last call at the bar, which had just been announced by the ringing of a bell. Seething, Garnet tried to stomp to the exit, but was undone by a lack of stomping space. She shook her head in a desperate attempt to clear her alcohol addled thoughts, but alas, the sweltering room continued to tip this way and that and her feet wouldn't walk in a straight line no matter how hard she focussed.

_I feel like such an idiot!_ Garnet inwardly fumed as she narrowly missed being elbowed in the head by an overweight gentleman (who wasn't very gentlemanly at all, when considering his black eye and leery grin). _Why didn't he just tell me? Why would he let me go up to the bar like that? Why do I have to feel so… so…_

Jealous.

Jealous and resentful and tired and humiliated.

_Gods, I just want to go to bed…_

It was as she was half way toward the exit that someone grabbed her behind. Not a wayward stroke or playful slap, but a full handful that chased an alarmed yelp out of her mouth before she could think.

"Ex-excuse me!" Garnet yelled, enraged, and she spun round to confront her assailer, suddenly very sick of the Hangman's cliental. "Do you _mind_?"

The man in front of her was large and sweaty, red in the face from either his weight or the alcohol, the latter of which rolled off him in a pungent wave like a Malboro's breath. He was grinning, showing big, square teeth.

"Not one bit," he slurred, then chuckled dangerously. "Are y' all by yerself, then?"

"No…" Garnet said, a little doubtfully, because she _was_ by herself now, wasn't she? Then again, it wasn't a good idea to let _him_ know that, and it certainly wasn't a good idea to walk out the pub by herself. Or was it? What could this brute honestly do to someone like her?

"Bugger off," she snapped resolutely, and tilted her nose in the air and turned around.

Or tried to turn around.

The drunkard grabbed her slender wrist and nearly heaved her dainty form off the floor as he spun her. It was more out of pain than shock when she cried out this time, and her free hand clawed uselessly at his.

"Whut's yer rush, sweet-thing?" he drawled, breath rolling over her in a nauseous cloud. "Don't want company, eh? Thought you were alone?"

"She's not," a voice answered. "She's with me."

The man went flying sideways into a phalanx of people, but he didn't let his prize go and Garnet went tumbling with him. She yelled in pain as his hands crushed her wrist like a vice and various knees, elbows and knuckles grazed her body. There was a mass outcry from those surrounding her and her view was a patchwork mess of clothes and limbs.

"Get off of me!" she screamed, and somehow managed to bite his hand.

The man bellowed in pain and shook Garnet like a dirty rag. However, his grip had loosened enough for her to wriggle free – only to be kicked back to the floor again by a drunken reveller.

"Up you get, lass," a large woman urged as she hauled the queen ungently to her feet.

Though he footing was regained, the excitable crowd shoved her sideways, disorientating her further as she grabbed the nearest garment for purchase. People were shouting and the crowd was getting raucous. Then from the otherside of the bar she heard someone holler: "Godammit Zidane take your fuckin' brawls outside!"

She looked around blearily, past the heads bobbing like gulls on a tide, but she couldn't see him anywhere. Then she noticed that the balcony was lined with onlookers and the crowd surrounding her seemed to be facing a single direction. From somewhere to her right, a man was taking bets.

"Zidane!" she cried, but the mob swallowed her plea.

A girl wanting to get a better look pushed past her and she fell again, but this time someone caught her by the arms and she looked up fearfully.

"You alright?" Blank said, and for an awful second Garnet actually thought she going to cry. She just nodded and clung to him.

"Where's Zidane?"

Blank rolled his eyes and nodded toward the chanting crowd.

Reverberating above the amalgamation of sweaty cries came the distinct sounds of fighting, and realisation dawned sluggishly through the cloud of alcohol.

"He's fighting!" she yelled in dismay. "Stop him, Blank! I can't see – "

"Watch out!" the redhead cried, and only just managed to pull her back as a dozen revellers were bowled over.

"Zidane!" Garnet screeched.

The genome had a bloodied lip and was sprawled on groaning bodies, but he was conscious, and on top of that, he looked _mad_.

Despite her own anger and humiliation, little alarms bells went off in her head, and she turned a beseeching, desperate look toward Blank. "You have to stop him!"

Blank seemed relatively unbothered, busy shoving those who got too close away with one arm while the other kept Garnet out of harm's way. "Eh? What? Nah, he's fine. He's a champion brawler, right?"

"I'm not worried about Zidane!" Garnet yelled. "I'm worried his opponent!"

Blank cocked a confused hazel eye at her and opened his mouth to say something, but then Zidane's furious cry overshadowed that thought.

"_You bastard_!"

The thief leapt up and cleared the small circle of space the crowd had created for them. The larger man grinned at him lopsidedly, hands raised in a careless parody of defence as the blonde charged at him, teeth bared and tail thrashing.

He didn't even hit him. Why not, Garnet couldn't fathom – perhaps it was merely the alcohol dulling his fighting instincts, or perhaps he stopped himself at the last instant. Instead, he pushed him. A solid shove to the chest –

- and the man went flying. Not just a few feet, and not stopped by the people unfortunate enough to be in his way, no, they went with him too. They cleared the room and went through the wooden wall on the otherside. Even considering the sheer weight of the man and the amount of people getting in the way, _they all went through the wall._

There was no drop on the otherside, thank the gods, just a cobbled road, so the knot of people lay in heap outside, groaning, swearing and yelling. Those still standing babbled and cursed and cheered in a buddle of confused emotion. Most just resumed drinking, though the barstaff were hollering obscenities loud enough for the gods to hear.

Garnet realised she'd clamped both hands over her mouth, and lowered them numbly.

_Zidane…_

"Yo, man, let's get outta here 'fore they make us work off the damage!" Blank's voice drifted through her numb state, and she nodded slowly, though he wasn't even talking to her. He was leading Zidane through the crowd, one gripping his arm, and he didn't even stop when he shifted Garnet in front of him and shoved her through the remaining crowd.

iv.

Outside, it was raining in thin, wispy sheets. It was noticeable only when it fell across the amber luminance of a street lamp, yet Garnet's hair and clothes were already uncomfortably damp. She rubbed her bare arms miserably, any warmth bestowed by the drink wearing off as she sobered up in Lindblum's night air.

"Here," a voice said, and a woollen jacket fell over her shoulders.

Garnet hesitated, then pulled it closer around her. After a moment she said, "This isn't yours…"

"I know," Zidane admitted. "I stole it while we were running out. Thought you might get cold."

"…Thanks. I think…"

Up ahead, Baku was taking the lead, weaving through shadow dipped alley after shadow dipped that were indistinguishable from one another through Garnet's eyes. Cinna and Marcus had their arms around each, staggering dangerously and singing a bawdy song. Blank and Ruby were out of earshot, but judging by their body language Garnet could guess the redhead was attempting to woo her, and though Ruby was putting on a front, she would probably give in when the night was through.

No one seemed to care that Zidane had just knocked twenty odd people though a wall.

_Maybe I'm being silly,_ Garnet reasoned. _Maybe he's always been this strong and I've never paid it much heed. Blank did say he was a champion brawler and none of them seem surprised… I'm just getting myself worked up over nothing…_

"Look, I'm sorry for not telling you," Zidane said suddenly.

She looked up. "About what? Oh… Oh. Her."

"Yeah…"

She shrugged. All of a sudden something like that seemed very trivial. "It doesn't matter. What's past is past, right? I… shouldn't have gotten angry. I guess I was… you know… kind of jealous."  
Zidane grinned, then snorted and shoved his hands into his pockets. "She's nothing to be jealous of, believe me."

"This… was a pretty crazy night out," Garnet allowed.

Zidane chuckled. "Crazy? Phhfft. Tonight was nothing. I should take you out when we have a _proper _Tantalus night out."

"Ah… No thank you. Tonight was wild enough for me."

"If you say so…"

"And Zid?"

"Mmm?"

"Thanks for coming to the rescue, again."

He threw an arm around her jovially. "No problemo, babe. You can just make it up to me later."

"Ugh."


	20. Troubled Minds

Thank you again for everyone's reviews! I've been really rubbish with replying recently, but I do read and appreciate every single one!

For those who don't follow me on DeviantArt, thought I'd let you know I've done a short doujinshi around FF9, primarily Zidag based. Go to my profile for the link to my DA account.

Enjoy the chapter, which takes some inspiration from the sadly unfinished, by still wonderful, 'Unreachable', by Lucrecia LeVrai.

(Opps, did I forget to give Blank a shirt? Clumsy me…)

* * *

**Chapter Nineteen**  
Troubled Minds

i.

**DING-DONG-DANG-DONG**

"Aaahh!" Garnet yelled as she fell off the bed.

"Ah!" came the yell of whatever she landed on.

"A-ah!" Garnet yelled again as she was pushed roughly off an occupied mattress and onto a hard wooden floor. "I- I beg your pardon, I didn't… ah… what –" Garnet stammered as the face of podgy man with glowing yellow eyes sprouted from a gnarl of bedsheets.

Cinna's decidedly alarming countenance split into grin. "Mornin' Queenie! Bells wake you up?"

She gawped like a loon for what felt like an eternity, her poor brain racing to fit together pieces of a puzzle that should not be tackled so early in the morning. Dimly, she was aware of a faint throbbing at her temple. "Ah… the… the bells?"

Cinna pointed upward and Garnet followed a podgy finger to the numerous mechanisms that turned the walls into a clockwork spiderweb.

"They chime every hour," Cinna explained. "They don't wake us up anymore though."

"O-oh…" was all Garnet could say, wondering how anyone could sleep through that racket. "Sorry for, um, falling on you."

Cinna shrugged and yawned noisily. "S'alright. Bein' woken up by a hot chick fallin' on you aint half bad."

"Oh…" Garnet said lamely, her half-asleep brain failing to articulate an intelligent response. Luckily Cinna didn't seem to be at all interested; he'd already buried under the covers snout first and was on his way back to sleep.

Garnet blinked at the mound of covers for a moment, then her eyes trailed to where she'd fallen from: the bunk. Zidane's tail was a curled fishhook over the side (luckily it had unravelled itself from around her leg before she'd taken the tumble), so she quietly regained her feet and padded to the other side. She mounted the first step of the ladder and peered at the genome, who was asleep on his front in a buddle of covers, mouth wide open and hair so charmingly askew she couldn't help but smile.

Following the previous night's drama, Garnet half hoped they would harry Cid for a guest room and a good night's sleep respectively, but Baku informed her she'd be having the bunk, and Cinna would be having the mattress, so she found she really couldn't argue without causing offence.

It didn't matter anyway; she'd been so tired she fell asleep the moment her head hit the pillow, exhaustion lending no time for surveillance. Tantalus could have led her to a brothel for all she would have known, because no one had bothered to light a candle when they'd all staggered in the night previous. Everyone just groped their way around in a familiar sort of jig, until Zidane led her by the hand across an obstacle course of unidentifiable objects until there was a springy mattress and flat, lumpy pillow beneath her. She was asleep before he could have his way, though she managed to pull on some baggy pants and a loose shirt before she drifted off (and looking at them now, she had no idea to whom they belonged).

At any rate, this was her first look at Zidane's childhood home, the infamous 'Hideout'. What surprised her most was that it wasn't hidden at all, contrary to its name. Instead, it was located in the centre of the Theatre District with a bright, deceivingly welcoming front door.

Looking around, she marvelled at how she hadn't broken her neck last night. The place was a mess. The wooden floorboards were largely obscured by a patchwork of clashing rugs, and upon them lay chests both open and locked, clothes, books, parchment, crockery and an assortment of random odds and ends, including a broken comb, an easel, a stuffed doll and a bouquet of wilting flowers.

The room was actually rather large though, and so was the entire building, for she knew Blank had disappeared with Ruby down a flight of stairs and Baku had similarly disappeared through the closed door beside the kitchen's open one, through which Garnet could spy stacks of plates and uncovered food. Crowning the main room was a table and chairs, and on the wall was a framed world map, a copy of the authentic Zidane had been given by Cid. She crossed the room to study it. This was no cheap knock off, she noted approvingly. The ink work was quite fine for a replica.

The door to her left banged open so loudly she almost leapt clean off the ground in fright. A short shriek managed to flee her throat though, and she clutched her hand to her heart and felt it pound.

"Haaaaa-waaaaa," Baku yawned loudly as he stomped from his room, oblivious to Garnet's presence beside the map.

"G-good morning, Baku," Garnet chimed hesitantly, and the large man threw her a startled look.

"Eh? Ya still here?"

"Oh, um… Is that a problem?" she worried politely.

Baku laughed thunderously (yet still the two Tantalus boys remained unstirred) and said, "Course not! Just thought you'd be up and outta here, is all. Haven't ya got, er… queen stuff to do or somethin'?"

"No, I suppose not. Though I'll be seeing Uncle Cid later on."

"Ah," Baku said. He tramped across the room and disappeared into the kitchen. "Say 'ello to the old geezer for me, eh?"

"Of course."

"How are ya feelin' this morning anyways?"

"Ah… fine."

"Ehehehe. Yer up early."

Garnet recalled the clock's chiming and smiled wryly. "Ten isn't early for a queen."

"Heh, suppose not. I'll be lucky to get these lazy assholes up before three. You want coffee?"

Garnet seated herself at the table. "If you wouldn't mind."

"Sugar?"

"Please."

As Baku bustled noisily around the kitchen, Garnet had a sudden thought and glanced worriedly over her shoulder. Cinna's loud snoring was rather loud and the city's noises were an indistinct hum through the dirty windows of the Hideout, but Zidane's tail remained a motionless curl against the side of bunk, and she took that as sign that he was asleep.

When Baku approached her with a chipped mug of steaming black coffee, she was thankful when he took a seat. His purple beard was a bird's nest of curls and morning smears of darkness hung under his bright eyes. He had an even bigger cup of coffee than Garnet, and with one hand he lit a thin cigar.

Garnet abruptly wondered what manner of small talk one would use to engage one's father-in-law – a thieving father-in-law at that – and the first thing that bustled awkwardly to mind was, "So, how's the business?"

Baku's eyes flashed toward her, brow drawing into baffled shape. A stream of smoke unfurled from his nostrils. "Which… business…?"

Garnet flushed a little, remembering Zidane's cryptic warning against asking too many questions. "The _theatre_ business," she emphasised.

"Oh." He rolled his wrist in an exact mirror image of Zidane's own gesture. "Slow, this time of year. We do a few plays here an' there in the district, but lately we've been bumming a stage off Ruby."

"You've been in Alexandria? You should visit the castle more!"

Baku shrugged. "Rehearsals. Nothin' personal. Next time, right?"

She smiled warmly, but her dark eyes were quickly drained of joviality as they flicked to the bunk again and that motionless tail.

Baku didn't need to say anything. He simply leaned back and appraised her with a knowing look in his eye, a fatherly look, she thought, one that had experienced teens on the brink of awkward conversation many a time. So she dithered only a moment, acknowledging that he wouldn't push her, and she was thankful for that, at least.

Garnet leaned forward, both hands clasping the warm mug as she whispered, "Do you think there's something wrong with Zidane?"

"Wrong?" Baku repeated loudly (apparently incapable of whispering). "There's a lot wrong with that boy."

"No, no, I mean… _different_."

"Well, sure. He sure aint a kid anymore and goin' through a war will do stuff to ya –"

"I meant about last night. The _fight_."

"The wall business?" he said, scratching his beard.

Garnet nodded feverously. "_Yes_."

Baku blinked at her. "What about it?"

She felt like tearing her hair out, but she leaned back and huffed grumpily instead. "Am I being _completely_ paranoid?"

"He's strong, is all," Baku reasoned as he puffed on his cigar. "Always has been." But there was a distant look in his eye; something he wasn't telling her.

She pressed, "And was picking fights in taverns a regular habit?"

"No…" he admitted slowly. "But I'm not sayin' it never happened; it just wasn't a regular occurrence, you get me? Guess he's got a better reason to fight now."

"Me?"

"Sure." Matter-of-factly, he added, "Gets jealous easy, that one."

"Maybe I _am_ being paranoid," she muttered, staring at the table. "I just get so… so…." She stared at the table harder, her train of thought sharply derailed. "Is this an original Loviana piece?"

"Ah…"

Garnet ran a hand across the fine grain of the woodwork. "Good gods, it is. Sixteenth century, no doubt. There are only three of these in the _world_. Where did you get this…?"

Baku thumbed his nose and grinned. "Didn't Zidane give you the 'no questions' talk?"

Garnet blushed. "Sorry."

Baku shrugged, still grinning. "It was an unexpected bonus during a scam… The back door was wide open and uh… well, _wide_. We hustled it out, and took the chairs as an afterthought." He knocked his knuckles against the surface. "Every home needs a sturdy table, eh?"

"Y-yeah," Garnet agreed falteringly, wondering if she knew or had at least brushed shoulders with the unfortunate victim of their heist. "It's… lovely."

"Mornin' campers!" Blank crowed as he emerged from the lip of the staircase, wearing nothing but a pair of baggy trousers. (Garnet wondered when she'd become so accustomed to casual indecency.) "Got coffee?"

"Some in the pot," Baku replied tersely. "Why are ya up so early?"

Blank threw him an annoyed look behind his back. "You _told_ me to get up this early, Boss. Gotta go pick up some stuff from the docks, aint I?"

"Oh yeah," Baku said, squinting up at the rafters. "You better get a move on, boy. If you miss 'em one more time they'll look fer someone else to lug that shit around."

Garnet didn't dare ask what they were picking up, and politely stared into her coffee until the subject was diverted.

Blank returned from the kitchen with his own mug and absently patted her on the head. Then he scooped up a rubber ball from the floor (one of many ambiguous articles littered around) and lobbed it across the room, where it struck the unfortunate sleeper on the bunk.

"Ya-ah!" came a startled yell, and an extremely dishevelled Zidane shot up in bed.

"Mornin', gorgeous," Blank drawled.

Zidane blinked owlishly round the room before fixing Blank with a furious glare. He croakily snarled, "_Fuck_ _off_," before burying back under the covers.

Baku laughed and threw Garnet a playful and somehow reassuring wink. "Some things never change."

ii.

"…so annoying, thinks he knows everything about everything. I'm serious. You know what he said? He said, he said that the idea of a tree as big as Iifa was preposterous because there's not enough nutrients in the area to sustain it, so I had to explain the roots go all over Gaia, and you know what? He didn't even believe me! I was so mad. And the worst part is – seriously this is the best bit – he says eidolons are unable to make independent decisions for themselves because their brain capacity is inferior to ours! Who does he think he is? Who does he think he's talking to? Well, I was in the right of mind to summon Mog there and then and blast his sorry ass right into –"

"Eiko!"

The eight-year-old summoner barked an apology that was convincing enough to pacify Hilda's impending lecture, then turned her eager, lavender eyes back to the genome, who was staring at her with a tolerant, if slightly perplexed expression.

"You know what else he said?" Eiko continued the rant about her new tutor. "He said moogle are rodents. Rodents! Let me tell you something. Moogles are _not_ rodents. How can he even say that? Isn't that the stupidest thing you've ever heard?"

"Uh… I guess…" Zidane allowed, scratching his head.

"Oh, and _also_. He told me that Behemoths only attack when provoked and I told him that's not true at all! I told him I fought one in Memoria and he _laughed_. He laughed his stupid head off – he didn't even believe me! And I told him, next time Zidane comes round he's gonna beat you stupid for laughing at me and, while you're at it, you can tell him what brutes Behemoths are. You'll tell him, right?"

"Dear, I do think you've talked poor Zidane's ears right off," Hilda attempted to stave her adopted daughter's endless chattering. "And please don't speak ill of Doctor Gregori. Do remember your manners."

"Zidane doesn't have any manners," Eiko countered. "Right, Zidane?"

"Uh…"

"But I guess Mother's right," Eiko answered herself. "I have talked all about me. I want to hear what you've been doing! How's Choco? Have you been on any adventures? Have you heard any more from that bad man, Dimitri? Is Steiner still on your back about everything? Do you still get lost in the castle? Do you have to go to royal meetings all the time? Do you and Dagger sleep in the same room? Are you gonna have a baby soon? What are you gonna call it? What do you –"

"Eiko," Hilda cut in again. "That's not a thing a lady asks."

"Sorry. But Dagger promised I'd be the first to know. _Right_, Dagger?"

She threw a wholly demonic look at Garnet, who was sitting with her chin resting neatly on one palm, staring out the window. And though her half-lidded gaze might be deceiving to some, queens never allow themselves to drift completely out of conversation lest they be caught unawares. So even though she was only half interested in Eiko's charmingly infinite chattering, she was quick to reply, "Of course, Eiko. You'll know as fast as the moogles can carry a letter."

"Have Sumomo deliver it," Eiko replied sombrely. "He's the most reliable. Some people say Armetician is, but even though he might be fast, he has a habit of stopping at every shiny surface to admire his reflection. Moguo told me so, so it has to be true."

Garnet smiled. "I'm afraid I'm a little out of touch with the moogle social ring. Except Mene of course but –"

"But he's a social outcast," Eiko said knowingly. "Kupopo told me."

"It's not nice to gossip. Especially with moogles," Hilda chided half-heartedly, glancing up from her embroidery. To her right was a marble fireplace, and the fire that roared within it was so large it might have been called a house fire in any other residence, not to mention it was only early autumn and not particularly cold. However, it did a wonderful job of highlighting Hilda's honey-gold ringlets and the silver embroidery on her dress, and it gave the large chamber an altogether homely feel, so perhaps it was for fashion's sake alone.

Above the mantel hung a portrait of Cid and Hilda, and to the left and right of that were huge windows extending to the ceiling, and the thick curtains that draped all the way to the floor captured the cityscape beyond in a frame of velvet.

The mismatched crew sat around in cushioned chairs and drank tea. Much to Garnet's chagrin, Zidane had kicked off his boots and propped his feet on the fine, glossed table. She was sitting opposite him and had tried to impede his behaviour using her eyes alone, but he remained totally oblivious as usual, and judging by the crooked smirk he kept shooting her way she guessed he was misinterpreting the longing in her eyes into something else entirely.

Regent Cid was absent, though he promised to dine with them later. He was, apparently, absorbed with a new project. Not a new airship, just improvements to the last Hilda Garde's engine, which was still relatively unstable compared to the old Mist fuelled generation, and even Hilda didn't dare drag him away when he was in such an inspired frenzy.

Eiko had budged her chair up right next to his and was all scrunched up on its seat, rocking back and forth with her knees drawn up to her chest, grilling Zidane for every detail that sprung to an eight-year-old's capricious mind.

"Let me give you a tour!" Eiko suddenly gushed, grabbing Zidane's hand.

"I've been round the castle loadsa times…"

Eiko rolled her eyes. "Yeah but I can go anywhere I want. _You_ never could. And everyone has to do what I say… Well, not everyone… but I know all the secret places, and they're the _best_ places! C'mon!"

Zidane offered a defeated half-smile and allowed Eiko to lead him out the room, pausing only to mime a playful 'help me' over his shoulder. Garnet giggled as they disappeared around a corner and Hilda shook her head, deft fingers never ceasing her embroidery.

"She's been excited about his visit all week," Hilda said. "I think he's like the big brother she never had."

Garnet smiled, heart briefly singed with bittersweet love as she remembered Vivi, who had watched over Eiko with a solemn vigilance that just seemed so cute on him. Eiko had disdained his guardianship, but was the first to hold his hand whenever they got scared, and would fall asleep on his shoulder as the campfire weaved amber streaks in her lilac hair… He'd pick her flowers and she'd turn them down, but when he wasn't looking she'd stick them in the ribbon of his hat, and sometimes he'd have five or six flowers at once, and when he finally found them later that evening his eyes would crease in that sweet way which meant he was smiling -

She caught herself just as her eyes grew hot, and bid her memories depart. Vivi was a precious, painful gem in her soul that was still so hard to hold. Now her and Hilda were alone, she remembered one of the reasons she'd suggested a visit in the first place.

"Can I ask you a question, aunt?"

Hilda looked up sharply, then put her embroidery aside with dainty eagerness, a smile lighting her rouged cheeks. "I wondered when this day would come! Now I know Cid and I were unable to bear children but it doesn't mean we didn't try, so I know all the methods of encouraging fertility –"

"Ah no no, aunt," Garnet dismissed awkwardly. "Nothing like that, I'm afraid."

Hilda looked disappointed. "Oh, but you really should…"

She neatly overlooked that. "I was wondering, actually… I know it's a little out of the blue and everything, and I understand if you don't want to talk about it but… What was Kuja like?"

Hilda leaned back a bit. "Kuja?"

"Yes. You… were his prisoner, were you not? Didn't you have regular… exchanges with him?"

Hilda put her fingers to her lips in a manner that might have been distressed or confused. "Why yes. He spoke to me at length on many occasions… He liked to hear himself talk ever so much, and would often invite me to dine with him."

"And you accepted?" Garnet couldn't help but be flabbergasted. "Aunty!"

She shrugged girlishly. "I was lonely. And besides… he wasn't… unpleasant. He liked to play his silly games with me… Political and verbal mind games, you understand."

"Was it really so awful?"

She thought about this for a moment. "… No. I suppose not. Just lonely. And I worried for Cid. Kuja never gave away the information I wanted, only that which seemed to bother him." She sighed, and Garnet could have sworn there was some tenor of pity there. "Sometimes I felt like his councillor. He carried a lot of emotional baggage, you see."

"You don't feel sorry for him, do you?"

Hilda shook her head. "It is clear to me that his unfortunate upbringing was the root of his immorality, though that immorality was very much genuine. The poetic façade he wore was merely that: a façade. Beneath it was an extremely troubled, bitter young man. I believe he had lost hope long before his death… He had cocooned himself from the world and would accept no help, even if it was offered."

Garnet glanced uneasily out the window_. Zidane… Was everything he said really true? Even if it were, it wouldn't change my feelings toward the man. But if I could gain some insight into his character, perhaps I can understand Zidane's feelings better._

"I almost wish I hadn't been so stubborn and offered him aid. Kuja wouldn't have admitted it, but he needed someone to guide him." She sighed. "I suppose my reluctance stemmed not just from stubbornness, but cowardliness too. I admit: he was frightening."

"You wouldn't have been able to do anything," Garnet reassured her, puzzled and frustrated by Hilda distress. "He was consumed by his own power – by his plans…"

"Maybe you're right. But still… Oh, he does remind me of him, sometimes," Hilda cut herself off with an abrupt remark.

"Who?" Garnet said, blinking. "Z… Zidane?"

"Oh yes. Sometimes. In their mannerisms and characteristics."

"That… that's not true! … Zidane isn't anything like… _him_."

Hilda bobbed a shoulder apologetically. "I didn't mean any offence, dear. I don't think I truly saw the side of Kuja that you did."

"It seems very few people did," Garnet remarked sourly, slouching into the chair.

"Do you think perhaps he wasn't always that way?"

"What way?"

"You know… debauched."

Garnet shrugged moodily, pushing away the sly little thoughts that accompanied such a suggestion. "Ugh, I don't even care anymore. I'm sorry I brought him up again…"

"I think Zidane's beginning to resemble him a little more, too."

"Please stop, aunt!" Garnet quipped uneasily, trying not to envision having a silver-haired effeminate narcissist hold her every night. "I don't see how…"

"Well, maybe he just needs a haircut," Hilda said in a tone that implied it to be suggestion.

"I think he's growing it."

"It's rather unfashionable…"

"He doesn't care." Garnet smiled. "That's why I love him, I guess." Her tone sobered. "Um… I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention our little talk to Zidane…"

Hilda waved her hand, nose wrinkling sweetly. "What is said between us, stays between us, Garnet, dear. Don't fret."

"Thanks."

"Now… back to this fertility business…"

"Aunty!"

.


	21. For The Future

Yo! Apologises for the short chapter, I didn't want to do two time jumps in one chapter. But hopefully Blank's presence makes up for shortness. Gad I've turned into such a hopeless fangirl.

By the way, go check out **'Master Thief Of Gaia' **by Aliki. It's epic. And needs more love. DO IT. For me!

Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Twenty**  
For The Future

i.

The Black Mage Village had all the potential to be one of Garnet's favourite places on Gaia. It was largely untouched by the hand of politics and complexities of city life; it's simplicity was endearing more so than any other quaint farming village she'd visited because its residents were unaffected by the prospect of being impoverished. The weather was fine most of the time (aside from when thunderstorms would flood the better part of the forest) and the sunshine empathised the cheerful disposition of the mages even without the aid of smiley faces carved into the dear little huts.

However, Garnet had reservations about the village. Not only because of the presence of Vivi's grave – poor, sweet Vivi cruelly snatched from the earth long before his time should have been over – but also because of the atmosphere. The cheerfulness of the mages was infectious, but the place had about it a sharp joy that felt somehow rushed. The mages knew they didn't have long in the world.

Although she felt she shouldn't pity them, Garnet felt sad here; it was an aura she simply couldn't dispel.

And she felt it most acutely now, lingering on the outskirts of the village with a basket of fruit under one arm. This uncomfortable aura was especially heady today, she thought; it pressed down on her with force, making her chest feel tight and the corners of her mouth turn down. She realised it wasn't just sadness in the air, but dread and anxiety too. Why?

It should be an especially happy time, for a new batch of Black Mages had been successfully hatched. It wasn't a particularly rare occasion anymore, but the Black Mages treated each event with more vigour than the last, and would always hold a grand festival in fields outside of the village. That's why she was collecting fruit – for the festival.

Garnet looked around. The village was empty. It seemed everyone had already gone on ahead. She felt momentarily annoyed and unappreciated. Her arm ached from carrying the heavy basket, laden with the rewards of a morning scouring the dangerous terrain outside.

She loitered stupidly for a moment, caught between annoyance and reluctance, until she realised the Black Mages never really got angry and wouldn't mind if she arrived late and without the fruit. She decided to put her basket in the storage shed so they could be eaten later – she was already so late, carrying the load would only hinder her travel further but there was no sense in wasting them.

The storage shed had once been the chocobo hut, but its function was changed for reasons she couldn't quite remember. As she approached it she noted that even the moogle, which was usually resident to the bundles of hay outside, had left for the festival – goodness, she _was_ late!

She entered the chocobo hut, except it wasn't the chocobo hut anymore. It was her bedroom back in Alexandria Castle. It looked like a Behemoth had rampaged through it and ended with a Meteor spell for good measure. Her bed was upside down and shoved against the wall at a clumsy angle, the bedsheets missing and balcony torn. The curtains were shredded and the balcony windows were smashed, her wardrobe was firewood and her clothes ripped beyond recognition.

Angrily, Garnet dropped the basket of fruit and stomped over to her ruined clothes. "What am I going to wear to the festival now?" she stormed.

A voice airily replied, "What's wrong with what you're wearing now?"

Garnet turned to behold a table in the centre of the room (how had she not noticed it before?), ringed by a number of chairs, and at the head of the table sat Kuja.

"I can't wear this," she told him impatiently. "It's pink! That's a spring colour and it's autumn."

Kuja shrugged. "I don't like pink anyway."

She scowled. "If you're not going to be of any help than I demand you take leave of this place immediately."

"Come help me with this," Kuja said, gesturing to the table. Upon it, Garnet spotted a chessboard, though the figures weren't of the ordinary kind. Intrigued, she approached it and found them to be a collection of Royal Action figures that she had always thought quite horrid. There was Beatrix, and Steiner with his Pluto Knights, and there was were her mother… Oh! And Freya and Frately, even Amarant and Vivi!

Suddenly she found them quite endearing, and leaned over Kuja's shoulder, feeling flirtatious and giddy. "What will be your next move? Do let it be a good one!"

"I don't know…" Kuja mumbled, head bent over the chessboard. "I'm quite stuck."

Garnet frowned. "Well you must hurry! I'm awfully late for the festival."

"Fine," Kuja huffed crossly. "_You_ make the next move."

"But I don't know how to play!"

"Do your best!"

"But –"

"Do your best!"

"Oh, okay…" Garnet faltered, abruptly feeling self-conscious. "Um… My best? Well… I guess my best would be Zidane." She scanned the chessboard for his piece.

"Zidane?" Kuja said, surprised. "Well, you can't play him!"

"Why not?" she snapped.

Kuja looked over his shoulder at her, and she startled backward with a gasp. Kuja's face wasn't Kuja's face at all.

"Because _I'm_ Zidane," he told her.

ii.

Garnet awoke with a sharp intake of air, eyes snapping open. Much to her disconcertion, the image of Kuja with Zidane's face remained a vivid imprint behind her eyelids, like the afterimage of the sun if one stares at it too long. It left a bad taste in her mouth, and the shock she'd felt in her dream remained through the pounding of her heart.

Garnet groaned tiredly, throwing a hand over her eyes. That was the third time she'd had the dream, yet the disturbance it left in its wake hadn't lessened. She needn't be a professor of the mind to decipher its meaning; thoughts of the connection between Kuja and Zidane had plagued her since her discussion with Hilda some weeks previously.

What worried her most was the lucidity of the dream. Because of her origins as a summoner, both her and Eiko had a sensitive subconscious, Eiko's especially heightened by the presence of her horn, and Garnet had always thought of her mind as a floodgate that had been flung open, primarily to receive the eidolons. It was flexible compared to a normal person's, able to bend and stretch to establish a connection with beings from another realm. Not only that, but it also connected summoners, to a certain extent. If Garnet was in Lindblum Castle she could catch a glimmer of Eiko's location, and if the girl drew close could just discern her basic emotion. It was nothing telepathic, and she knew Eiko could gain a lot more from her than she could from Eiko, which might explain the younger summoner's natural appreciation of other's temperaments. She remembered Eiko's shrewd gazes and keen insights throughout their journey during the war, her comments and observations hitting a lot closer to the mark than coincidence would allow.

At any rate, such a heightened state of mind meant her dreams were particularly vivid and frequent; rarely a night went by without a dream of some sort. Quite often they were replays of memories, so vivid she could be fooled into thinking she'd travelled back in time, such as the nightmare of her journey from Maiden Sari to Alexandria. Sometimes she heard the voices of her eidolons, whispering, growling and cooing warnings and advice and pleas. This was her concern momentarily. She had never had a premonition of any sort, for not even the eidolons could see into the future, but it wasn't uncommon for them to send her warnings through such bright, tangible imagery.

Was this dream such a case? She wasn't sure. It could very well be that her worries had manifested themselves into a reoccurring nightmare, which wasn't at all uncommon.

But it killed her, because all she could do was wait.

Knowing from experience that slumber wouldn't return for a while, Garnet sat up in bed and immediately noticed the absence of her other half. Her heart skipped a beat.

She shook herself mentally; this unusual surge of anxiety was only a dream remnant, and she was being silly.

But still it didn't depart. And it felt strange. She couldn't quite put her finger on it. Other than the dream she didn't have much reason to be anxious and yet –

"Sorry, did I wake you up?"

Garnet squinted across the room and realised the balcony doors were thrown open. The night was still; the curtains were motionless. Thick streams of moonlight spilled across the carpet, and she only knew Zidane was there by the cut out shape in the moon's light. He was sitting on the balcony, twisted round to stare at her over one shoulder.

"Zidane?" she whispered, puzzled. "What are you doing?"

_(The stupid birds woke me up)_

The shadow shifted; he shrugged. "Chillin'."

Momentarily thrown by his offhanded reply, Garnet frowned at his shadowy figure before slipping out of bed and padding across the carpet.

Outside, she could see him clearly, wearing a wreath of moonlight and balanced precariously on the banister of the balcony. The moons glared fiercely from above and Alexandria was pockets of shadow and silver, both beautiful and sinister at the same time.

In the moonlight, Zidane's hair looked silver too. She didn't like that at all.

"I didn't mean to wake you," he apologised sheepishly.

"You didn't," she said. "I um… I just woke up." She wrapped her arms around herself to ward off the autumn chill, hopping from foot to foot as the marble numbed her toes. "Have you been awake long?"

He hesitated. "Yeah…"

"What are you thinking about?"

"…Nothin'."

She fought off a butterfly of annoyance, then was overcome by selfish concern. "Is it… me?"

He threw her a startled look, then slid off the banister to face her. "No! Nothing's _wrong_, Dagger. I just… I just can't sleep, that's all. Everyone gets that, right?"

She nodded hesitantly.

"Don't worry about me," he told her, thumping his chest. "You've got way more important things to worry about, like runnin' the kingdom."

She wrinkled her nose. "You're more important, Zid." She sighed. "Come back to bed, okay? It's cold."

He followed her in and closed the doors behind him. Already Garnet could feel the steady tug of fatigue, underlined by the anxiety that was as tangible as the flow of blood in her veins. What was with that, anyway?

Zidane's tail wrapped around her thigh as she shifted to her side, and he pressed against her back and traced the curve of her waist with one hand. "I'm startin' rehearsals tomorrow," he told her.

Her heart both sank and leapt. "In Alexandria?"

"No. In Lindblum." He must have felt her tense, because he added, "It's not that far."

"I know."

"And it's not for long. We'll be coming back to Alexandria to use Ruby's theatre."

She almost asked why they couldn't just rehearse in Alexandria, but that would have been selfish and besides, no one could go against Baku's orders. Baku preferred to rehearse in Lindblum, so she couldn't argue.

Zidane's return into the field of acting had been his choice, and something he had revealed only a few days ago. It was no secret between them that he was bored in castle, something that neither surprised her nor disheartened her. He didn't want to involve himself with the politics Garnet had to daily face, and she didn't particularly want him to either. So Baku allowed Zidane to rejoin them during the theatre season as an actor (and a thief, she didn't doubt). It would keep him busy and happy, and he would never be gone long or far from Alexandria. Primarily, he would base himself at Ruby's Theatre with the other actors she hired, but when Tantalus was scheduled to perform he would rejoin their troupe, which meant he had to rehearse away from Alexandria.

Normally this wouldn't have been a problem, but Garnet would have preferred to keep him close until his unusual behaviour subsided.

If _it subsides_, a voice jeered in her mind, and she brushed it away crossly.

Instead of voicing her worries, she inadequately said, "Write me if you need anything."

He rolled her onto her back and moved on top of her, then kissed her neck. "You shouldn't worry so much. It'll give ya wrinkles," he murmured into her hair.

She smiled crookedly, but when the moonlight fell across him just so, she did notice that his appearance was changing. Of course he was aging, edging out of his teens and into early manhood (though he probably grew up long before most men), but instead of filling out and growing broad he remained lean and wiry. Abruptly she could see the relation between him and Kuja, and her dream popped to mind again. Gods, what if he grew up to look exactly like him? It wasn't impossible considering the manner of his… creation.

He must have noticed her grimace, because he drew back in confusion. "What?"

_Stop it, Garnet_, she scolded herself. _Look at him! Even if they are related it doesn't make them the same. It's such a petty way to think…_

She stared at him harder as he blinked at her with an expression that flitted between perplexed and concern. Then she felt kind of silly, because there was no hatred or bitterness in those azure eyes, no thin cruelty to his lips. As far as she was concerned, their similarities ended and began at their origin.

So instead of replying, she drew him into a kiss heady and deep, and when his hands found the skin beneath her nightdress the anxiety eased into a throbbing, pleasant lull.

When she slept, it was dreamless.

iii.

With a deft flick of the thumb the coin flipped through the air. The chiselled image of Regent Cid alternated with Lindblum's crest in hypnotic flashes as it sang out into the bright, morning sky. Two eager pairs of eyes followed it until it was snatched mid-flight and laid to rest heads up.

"Shit," Zidane muttered.

"Ha!" Blank exclaimed, then pocketed the gil with obvious relish. "All yours, kiddo."

"Don't call me that," the genome gritted irritably. "You're only six months older than me."

"Six months, three days and two hours, but who's counting?" Blank remarked with a cheerful grin as he strode away with his hands in his pockets. "Hurry up."

"You don't know my exact birth date… _I_ don't know my exact birth date," Zidane grumbled under his breath as he stooped to pick up the enormous box. "Hey, wait up, you have to direct me! This stupid thing is bigger than me!"

"That's why I said hurry up!" the red head mocked from up the street.

Zidane grappled to hold the box comfortably (funny how light things seemed nowadays) but even with it firmly in hand the box had the advantage of at least a foot, obscuring his vision completely. It wouldn't have been a problem if the boys could stop bickering long enough to carry it together, but they had somehow resorted to tossing a coin every time Baku ordered them to pick up a stage prop from the otherside of the Theatre District, and now they were too stubborn to do it any other way.

"You alright with that, lad?" the sculptor worried from the doorway. "Don't drop it, eh?"

_What do you care_, Zidane couldn't help but think, _we've already paid you._ "Yeah, fine. Anything blockin' my way?"

"Nope. Yer friend is waitin' at the other end of the alley."

"Such a _good_ friend," Zidane sniped as he carefully plodded in what he hoped was the right direction. As an afterthought he called back, "Thanks again, old man."

Zidane made it unscathed to the alley entrance where Blank was waiting, and hoped the rest of their trek went as smoothly. He had to admit, Blank took being a guide a lot more seriously than him. Last time when the roles were reversed, Zidane couldn't help but steer his brother into walls and potholes and a particularly grouchy old lady who had smacked Blank's knees with her walking cane.

Zidane prayed Blank wasn't the vengeful type.

"Left. Right. This way. No, no, _this_ way."

"How am I meant to know which way you're talkin' about?" Zidane snapped as he barely avoided colliding with a lamppost.

"Follow my voice, idiot," Blank retorted crisply. "Geez, what's been up your ass lately?"

Zidane grimaced. "Sorry."

"Didn't ask for an apology," Blank muttered.

Zidane rolled his shoulders. "I dunno. I guess I just miss Dagger."

"You saw her last week."

"Yeah but it doesn't stop me from missin' her!"

Blank scoffed. "You've become a right softy."

"Says you, Mr I-Buy-My-Girlfriend-Roses-Everytime-She-Gets-Mad-At-Me."

"That's _different_."

"How?"

"It… it just is, alright? Ruby's _difficult_. And a sucker for chivalry."

"Whatever."

"Just turn left, already!"

Zidane complied, and it was as he stumbled his way through another alley that a poster caught his eye. It was relatively new and largely uninteresting to a resident Lindblumese; it was advertising this year's Festival Of The Hunt. He would have overlooked it completely if not for the prize presented at the bottom of the poster in big, swirly handwriting:

**1****st**** Prize – Quatrix Gem**

"Huh," Zidane said, the gears of his devious minding clunking into action.

"What now?" Blank snapped hotly as he backtracked to the blonde.

"I think I'm gonna enter the Festival of the Hunt this year," Zidane told him. "I bet Dagger would like that stone. It might have something to do with summoning."

Blank glanced at the poster. "The Hunt? Isn't that… a bit outta your league, now? I mean, the biggest they let loose is a low level Zaghnol, which might've caused problems a few years back but…"  
Zidane grinned, warming to his idea. "Exactly! I'll win it no sweat! Besides, I could do with a work out."

Blank rolled his shoulders. "I dunno, man…"

"You should enter too!"

"…Why?"

Zidane nodded at the poster. "Second prize is ten thousand Gil."

Blank mirrored Zidane's grin. "Ruby wouldn't get mad at me for a whole week if I came back with that much."

"… Dude, you're totally pussy-whipped."

"What? You're only entering for –"

"_Pussy_. _Whipped_."

Blank stomped ahead. "Whatever. Take a right."

Zidane decided that Blank's vengeful side wasn't his best side as stumbled down a flight of stairs.

* * *

Thanks to Myshu for inspiring me with her dream sequence in 'Cheating With GFs'. Drop a review on yer way out perdy please?


	22. Justice Is Grey

Updates might be sparse from now on because I'm back at uni. I've been working practically non-stop, and any spare time is spent nerding over Halo/Gears. So… sorry!

Need I warn you about the swearing in this chapter…? Nah. You just go right ahead, thar.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty One**  
Justice Is Grey

i.

There was a smell in the air. Thick as tar and twice as consuming. Its intoxication was unbearable, a soup so thick it could have been swallowed, and those who had not known it previously should remember it forever, in dreams or otherwise; a memory that festered like an untreated wound.

Burning flesh.

And there was plenty of flesh to be burnt, oh yes. Bodies upon bodies upon bodies. Though one mustn't be misled into thinking they'd been stacked like that, ready for burning. It had been a somewhat more unsophisticated affair. A riot. Hordes of folk trapped within their own city walls, scrabbling to get away, and on the waves of their blind panic they had written their own demise. The ground at their feet became their graves, and as the fires spread it boiled their blood, scorched their bones and burnt their flesh to ash.

An onlooker stood astride the crumbling shell of a building, haloed by flames, arms crossed and visage satisfied. He inhaled deeply, marvelling at such a wondrous odour. It was a smell that embodied his victory, he decided, and in fact, he doubted he'd ever smelt something so glorious. Whether it was the smell itself he found appealing, or the fact that it was he who had caused it, he was not sure, but either way there was no battling that sense of pride bubbling inside his chest. This was his triumph and his alone, and he could wallow in its glittering aftermath without acknowledging another's aid. Such a feeling was priceless; he felt like a god.

As his gaze picked a lazy path through the destruction, he was in a proud mood. These people were such stupid things, afterall. Soft like a beetle's insides, unorderly, weak, _superfluous_. And this was only the beginning, he reflected. They would fall one by one to his feet, and there they would burn like kindling. Soon, the entire world would no longer remember a day when the air had been free of this odour; they would no longer remember freedom at all, in fact.

But, he supposed, it was hard to remember anything when one -

ii.

"You really aren't taking this seriously, are you?"

Zidane threw a guileless look over his shoulder. Above him, the weather was holding out; a late heatwave was blighted by an overcast sky, yet still the waiting fighters sweated in their basic garments. A spot of rain might not have hurt, but a breeze –at the very least – would have been welcomed. But alas, the weather could not be swayed, and neither could Zidane's blasé attitude. "What?"

"You _know_ what," Blank accused with a flinty glare. "Those daggers look like they're gonna fall apart."

Zidane pouted and tossed one weapon into the air, where it pinwheeled twice before being caught. "Yeah it's showing its age, so what? These guys have been with me from the beginning. Boss gave this one to me." He patted the other, sheathed at his side.

"_Exactly_," Blank countered. "It's old. Looks like it couldn't cut a gnat in two."

Zidane stuck his tongue out, unfazed by his friend's pessimistic criticism. True, his old daggers weren't as sharp or as polished as they used to be, but what was the point in bringing out the big guns when there was nothing to face but a smattering of Mus and handful of Fangs? Oh, and a Zaghnol, but Zidane was pretty sure he could take down an oversized pig; he had done many times in the past, afterall.

He glanced over at the bridge that extended from the castle to the outer wall, some miles from the ground. It was here that any member of nobility would be watching and he fleeting wished for Dagger's attentions, looking for him as he was for her. Unfortunately, she would have sent a message via mognet if she was in the area, and she hadn't, but Eiko would be watching, which was reason enough to win anyway. He didn't want her thinking he'd gotten soft or something.

"We takin' the Business District?" Blank asked, reclined against a wall with his sword sheathed to his back.

"Yup, that's where the bigguns will be" the blonde confirmed. "I signed us up earlier. There's quite a few contestants but I don't think they should be a problem." Absently he added, "I'm glad Freya isn't around this year…"

They had only to wait a few more moments until the signal sounded: a bell that rang a solid, steady note between the turrets and airships (thick in the sky where tourists and civilians alike crowded for the best view in the city). Shortly after, the braying of Mus and the snarling of Fangs and the cries of whatever other beastly creature had been let loose on the streets of Lindblum could be heard above the uncharacteristic silence of a waiting metropolis.

"Let's go," Blank said, pushing himself off the wall and casually drawing his sword.

Zidane nodded, unable to fight the eager grin as he twirled a dagger between his fingers. He could hear Dagger's voice now, tinged with gratitude and then curiosity as she picked up the Quatrix gem to marvel it, eyes shining in that pretty way which meant he was going to get some later. Gratitude sex was kinda hot, afterall.

And Blank was probably thinking along the same lines, because he seemed just as eager as Zidane when he hopped off the aircab and onto the cobbled lines of the Business District's station. For a fleeting moment Zidane wished there could have been some competition between the two, but they needed their respective prizes, so he bit down that tendril of rivalry and bounded toward the street outside, daggers drawn.

There was a Fang there, scrabbling with a stray dog. The poor mutt was on the losing end, one leg slumping after it as it yelped and fumbled to steer clear of the bigger carnivore. Blank dealt with the beast quickly, sneaking behind it to deal with it the way thieves do: a clean cut to the throat and the Fang was down for the count.

There were two Mus up ahead bothering a lad with a short sword. Zidane gestured for Blank to flank left as he curved right, approaching the monsters from either side. The Mus averted their attentions, momentarily confused. Trapped and therefore rabid, the Mus attacked at once, darting forward with their two-inch front teeth gnashing. Zidane had no time to watch his brother's back as he carelessly jumped to the side, letting the creature turn before dashing forward himself and impaling it through its exposed throat. Its dark blue blood fountained out just as Zidane jumped back to avoid it, and as it lay twitching on the ground he turned his gaze to the kid. He'd dropped his weapon and was clutching his hat with both hands, as if there was a strong wind that might lift it off.

"You alright, kid?"

"Th-they're not just big animals!" the boy spluttered. "Th-they're _real_ monsters!"

"No shit," Blank said, kicking away the carcass of the Mu he'd just gutted.

Zidane pointed to the nearest doorway, which had been opened a crack by a concerned owner. "Get in there and don't come out until the bell sounds, got it?"

The kid was halfway to the door before the genome had finished his sentence, and Blank snorted in half-hearted disdain. "Rookies."

The thieves jogged to the next street and were impeded by three Fangs rummaging through a pile of garbage. A Trick Sparrow was pleasant enough to interrupt that particular battle halfway through, diving from the sky to tear a souvenir across Blank's shoulder. The redhead severed its head for its troubles, then disembowelled the nearest Fang with an infuriated howl.

When he looked up Zidane was jogging toward the next street already, two carcasses in his wake with his pants stained blue with blood from the knees down, he glanced over his shoulder with a grin and said, "First touch! You owe me fifty gil."

"I do not remember making that bet," Blank growled, clamping a hand over the shallow – but bleeding – wound on his shoulder.

"You and your selective memory!" the blonde clucked, then disappeared round a corner so he could reach the next opponents before Blank.

iii.

"That's one fat pig," Zidane granted not five minutes later as he stared at the Zaghnol ramming its horns into the statue of Cid Fabool VIII.

"Shit. Regent aint gonna be happy when he sees the scratch marks on that," Blank observed.

Zidane thumbed the hilt of his dagger. "Who gives a shit about the statue? With a Zaghnol that big he's lucky it isn't rampaging through the fucking castle."  
"Hope no one's got hurt…"

"I doubt anyone has confronted it yet."

Blank threw him a look. "Yeah, only stupid people would do something like that."

Zidane rolled his shoulders, another grin creeping into place. "Heh. Difference is _I_ have the strength to match the stupidity."

"Whatever," Blank grunted as he hoisted himself onto an overhang above a shop window. "I'll be here if you need back up. Or a funeral director."

"Thanks," the blonde drawled, then stepped toward the beast, daggers drawn. "Hey! Why don't you pick on someone… uh… that's not made of stone!"

"Laaammme," came Blank's shout from across the square.

But Zidane didn't even have time to flip him off, because the Zaghnol turned its brutish head in his direction to consider this minor inconvenience, and gnashed its jaws belligerently.

"Bring it!" Zidane yelled, and the Zaghnol did just that.

The thunder of its hoofs against the cobblestones attracted faces to the windows of the surrounding buildings, and even a few brave souls peered from the rooftops. Glass shook in its pane and doors rattled on their hinges, and the Zaghnol's howl could be heard through all the dens and dives of Lindblum as airships turned in eager circles to behold the biggest battle of this year's Festival.

Zidane reflected a second too late that taunting the beast might not have been his best idea ever, and though he couldn't stop eight hundred pounds of muscular power with his bare hands, he got his blades up in time to catch its tusks. The beast jerked its head and Zidane went flying left, unscathed until he hit the building hard enough to crack the brickwork.

"Ouch," he allowed as he dropped to the floor. "Alright, you asked for it!"

Zidane leapt to his feet and ploughed forward, one dagger in front and one behind. The Zaghnol roared (and if Zidane's ears weren't playing tricks on him, so did the crowd) and barrelled forward too. Zidane grinned, and just as the husks were touching distance he let himself drop backwards, landing on the cobbles with an 'oof'. The hooves were thunder in his ears and the belly was a storm cloud above, passing in a split second, but not quick enough to avoid his dagger.

Zidane emerged from the otherside unhurt and drenched in blood.

"Shit," he muttered, as the Zaghnol lurched and bucked furiously, blood spraying over the buildings and street. "Not deep enough."

An annoying little voice in his head concurred that Blank might have been right about his weapons. However, he had no time to sulk, because the Zaghnol had directed its pain-fuelled rage at Zidane, and as he watched, a visible charge of electricity made the air crackle blue, so powerful that even his daggers conducted it and small shock waves shot through his arms.

"Fuck," Zidane said, then jumped into the air, channelling his mind and power into something tangible until it scrabbled like a fiend beneath the perspective of his subconscious. His thoughts were a dim muddle of needing to destroy the Zaghnol before it could cast, and he pulled from his knowledge and skill the power required for a quick kill. His outstretched hand funnelled the energy and it exploded before his eyes in rainbows of gold, bright and hot. The air became heavy and cumbersome, reeking of his magic, and the explosions were so loud even the Zaghnol's cries were swallowed whole.

When the light cleared, the Zaghnol was a steaming, black carcass. It looked like it had been dead for weeks.

"Holy fuck, man," Blank said, jogging over to the genome. "I think that pretty much defines the phrase 'Overkill'. Look what you did to the fucking buildings!"

Zidane looked up and saw they were still standing, but scorched from the explosion. A roof was on fire, and a man leaned out the window and yelled in dismay.

"Shit," Zidane said, or at least, is what he wanted to say, but nothing came out. Suddenly, the charred lump of monster swam before his eyes and the outskirts of his vision pulsed red. He staggered without realising and turned to face Blank, his tongue suddenly too slow and stupid to seek aid.

And though his vision was faltering and his head was beginning to pulse like a drum, he did see Blank's expression of numb surprise as he took a step back, stupidly pointing toward the genome.

His words drifted through the haze that devoured him like a ghost calling from the otherside: "Dude, your hands are like, on fire."

iv.

Garnet had resorted to pacing the cockpit.

It was ill-advised on all accounts. Her worry was heightened by the activity and the pilots were made nervous by her presence, possibly slowing the Red Rose's flight even though Erin repeatedly assured her they were pushing the engine to its limit. And that was really saying something, Garnet knew, because the engine was newly installed courtesy to Cid. Afterall, the Red Rose had previously run on Mist, so was rendered practically useless once that was gone.

"Please sit down, Your Majesty," Steiner pleaded. "Your scurrying will not make the ship fly faster."

"I know!" Garnet said, childishly pumping her arms in a temper. "Gods, I should've taken Choco!"

Steiner shook his head and lectured for the millionth time, "We have no idea what to expect there. You can't arrive alone and unguarded."

"I knew I shouldn't have sent him away," she muttered as she continued her pacing. "I _knew_ it. I had a bad feeling about the whole thing."  
"Don't be blaming yourself," the captain advised. "It's… probably nothing."

"Nothing?" Garnet repeated incredulously. "You know Eiko wouldn't have sent that message via mognet – using _Sumomo_ nonetheless – unless it was urgent! Plus, she didn't even have time to write a letter – it was relayed by the moogle's mouth alone before the poor thing passed out from such a frantic flight!"

"Word of mouth can lead to exaggerations…" Steiner tried, sounding as doubtful as he felt. "We… we're close to arriving, at any rate."

At least that part was true, Garnet thought with relief as she stared out the cockpit window. Jagged peaks flanked their sides and rolling pastures unfurled beneath them. A light rain streaked the windows and somewhere behind them was South Gate. If she squinted, she could just make out the looming hub of Lindblum.

_Oh gods, let him be okay._

And truly, all she could do was pray. Sumomo's panic stricken, rasped out message had simply been 'A message from Eiko! You must come to Lindblum, hurry, it's Zidane!'

The fact that Eiko had sent it instead of Cid was worrying in itself. Eiko was much more attune to the genome than the regent and if she was frightened enough to call Garnet before any other – and so quickly! – then it must have been serious. The thought sent bolts of anxiety through her body, and her legs began pacing again before she even realised.

"Sweet gods!" came a cry from Erin.

Garnet glanced briefly toward the pilot in hopes that she wasn't looking toward Lindblum. Unfortunately, she was, and Garnet turned her gaze much more slowly to cockpit window.

Lindblum was a sprawling mass climbing unevenly up the mountainside, looking wet and dull in the autumn rainfall. The gates were clanking open slowly, and the first thing she noticed was that they were the only airship flying in. All others were outward bound, and in a hurry, by the looks of it. Any craft waiting to get in was being denied; only the Red Rose had authorisation to pass.

This might have concerned Garnet, but her attention was quickly diverted when she noticed the root of Erin's gasp.

Half of Lindblum Castle was missing.

A plume of thick smoke spiralled fiercely into the rainy sky. What had once been proud turrets now stood a landslide of rubble and jutting pipes, angry and sharp in their shape so the whole mess looked like the mouth of a monster. The District beneath it had been crushed: houses, bridges, aqueducts and cabtracks, flattened. Army airships hummed overhead the destruction putting out fires with troughs of water and people scurried like ants between the devastation.

"The dock remains unscathed," a disembodied voice droned behind her. "We can still dock inside the castle, if that is Her Majesty's wishes."

Garnet had dropped to her knees and hadn't noticed. Now she stared at her hands, willing her thoughts to stay with her lest she go mad.

Please let him be okay please let him be okay please let

"Her Majesty wishes that," Steiner spoke for her. "Land as fast as the circumstances will allow."

The docking went surprisingly smoothly considering there were few hands available to aid the docking landside, and when the gangplank was pushed across and fully hinged, there was no one of rank to greet Garnet aside from a very anxious princess.

"Dagger!" Eiko yelled. There was panic in her voice, and relief. No sympathy, which boded well. "You came!"

Garnet cleared the gangway in a single leap, skirts fluttering behind her like a war banner. She dropped to her knees and gripped Eiko by the shoulders. "Are you alright?"

The girl nodded, purple locks bobbing around her cheeks. "Yes but –"

"Where is he? Take me to him."

Eiko hesitated, then nodded, and bounced away across the velvet carpet that lead to the castle's belly. Garnet followed her at a run with her skirts hitched up, Steiner following closely.

"Is Uncle Cid and Aunt Hilda okay?" she called, abruptly mortified she hadn't thought of them sooner.

"Yes!" Eiko yelled back, not bothering to look over her shoulder as she danced down empty corridor after empty corridor. "It was all so confusing, but luckily we weren't in that part of the castle. It's the servants' quarters mainly, and some of daddy's engineering rooms – the chemicals in there means the fire is really hard to put out!" She added, "Mother passed out."

From behind them, Steiner bellowed, "What happened?"

But Eiko just shook her head and when they rounded a corner Garnet found herself outside the guest bedrooms Cid had kindly lent them throughout the war. She glanced at Eiko, and the girl shrugged. "I'll wait out here."

"He's in here?"

"Yes. You stay here too, Steiner." Her tone left no room for argument.

Steiner hesitated, then nodded and turned his back to keep guard.

Gingerly, Garnet pushed the door open and slipped through.

v.

There could have been a number reasons for what happened in Lindblum. Freak accidents were not uncommon in the Industrial District and Cid's engine rooms were hardly child safe either. There were occasional airship crashes and random fires, and of course the possibility of someone finding and manipulating the eidolons again was always a worry, albeit a slim one.

But she had known what it was the moment the message had come. There was no doubt in her mind and no surprise; she felt like a person who had been staring at a leak in a dam. It had only been a mater of time before the whole thing came crumbling down. Her only concern had been his safety. Yet despite her cognitive insight, she couldn't help but feel the sting of disappointment when his expression confirmed it.

She could tell he half didn't want her to be here. The way his eyes dropped back to the carpet was heartbreaking, but they both knew there'd be no dancing round the subject now, no painting it over with half-truths and pretending.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed and looked a mess. His pants were stained and stiff with dry blood, his hair was streaked with soot and there was a nasty bruise creeping up his shoulder blades. The curtains were open to unhelpfully reveal plumes of smoke, dark smears against Lindblum's pretty dusk sky, and he was staring blankly at these, face glowing in the dying light.

She knelt in front of him to lure his gaze to hers, but he avoided the contact anyway.

"What happened?" she asked simply.

He raised his eyebrows and shrugged a shoulder. "I don't really know. I just…" He winced. "…Lost control, I guess."

"Of what?"

"No, that's not right, I'm lying," he muttered quickly. "That's the worst part."

"What?"

"I _didn't_ lose control. Well… it's hard to explain. I was conscious and I knew what I was doing but I… I didn't stop. I didn't want to… but it didn't feel like me."

"You wouldn't do that," she agreed frankly. "Were you… possessed?"

"No! That's the worst part, Dagger," he said, sounding frustrated and exhausted. "I knew what I was doing but it was like… I couldn't stop. Once I started releasing all this power it just kept coming and coming and I…" He paused, expression pained. "I just had to let it out. Like, I _had_ to do it." He looked at her. "Am I making any sense?"

_Gods, no_. "So you… you destroyed Lindblum Castle on… purpose?"

"Maybe. I guess I did. I just felt like I had to or I was gonna go crazy. And then when the power started to die down all that need went away." He looked at her again with an odd expression, and after a moment Garnet suddenly realised he looked a bit scared.

"And I can still feel it," he told her. "It hasn't gone away, not completely. It's just… under my skin. Waiting to get out."

Garnet stood up. "Zidane, this is serious. You're – " _Dangerous_, is what she nearly said, but changed her wording quickly. "…N-not yourself. I think it's best we go and see Mikoto as soon as possible."

"No," he said, shaking his head. "There's no need for that."

"I think there very much is a need for it," Garnet argued, thinking about all the people that might have died in the fires, under the falling debris, in the explosions. She repressed a shudder. "Now more than ever."

Zidane grimaced, then stared up at her pleadingly. "Can I at least think about it?"

She sat next to him on the bed, wrapping her arms round his waist and burying her face in his hair, because she wouldn't lose him again, not now, not ever. But all she could think about was Kuja, Kuja, _Kuja_.

"Blank told Cid it was an accident," Zidane told her numbly. "But he knew it wasn't. He was right there. He didn't even say anything to me after. I don't really think he knew what to say. He just went with me to the castle and left to tell boss."

"Zidane…"

"And the thing is, all I could worry about after was you and the throne. Because there aren't many prince consorts with tails so I thought if people recognised me they might think Alexandria was attacking Lindblum and another war would start. But… but I don't even have to worry about that because… because all the people who watched in the houses and airships are dead. I know they are because I blew them up."

_Oh gods please please just make this stop make this go away I don't want to hear it anymore _

Garnet entwined her hands with his. "Everything'll be fine."


	23. Flee

Thank you for being patient between updates! I've had an awful few weeks due to some personal dilemmas that left me in a state, and then just to top things off my laptop and tv broke on the same day (wtf?), neither of which I can sustain life without for very long (as sad as it is, but you know how it goes nowadays). Anyway, I earned a pity vote from my parents who brought me a laptop that's pretty sweet, so I'm back to writing in my spare time. Anyway, enough with the sob story already, I hear you cry, so on with the chapter! Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Two  
**Flee

i.

Garnet often forgot how young Eiko was. Her independence was nothing if apparent, fuelled by a brazen zest and outspoken authority that stemmed from an unusual upbringing rather than a spoilt one. Her intelligence and attitude far exceeded the average eight-year-old; she could recite lines from Lord Avon's works that someone double her age would struggle to understand.

One of few memories Garnet still retained of their encounter with Necron (the others stored in the darkest depths of her subconscious, and they emerged like demons during the night) was of Eiko standing tall and proclaiming the end of Death Itself. She had looked so devastatingly small that Garnet had wanted only to take her from that place and pretend she never saw a six-year-old with blood trickling from her ears and calluses on her little palms, the furious resolve burning in her eyes reducing her innocence to cinders.

And now that image was revived as Garnet watched Eiko from across the room; she remembered that Eiko was only a little girl, and little girls could get scared too.

"It's okay to cry, Eiko," Garnet urged softly.

Garnet was dressed for bed and brushing her hair at the nightstand, deftly avoiding the gaze of her hollow-eyed counterpart in the looking glass. But now she put aside the brush, and folded her hands in her lap.

Eiko sniffed loudly, and hiccupped. "'M not crying…"

"You'll feel better if you do."

"Yeah but what'll that solve?" she flared. "I'm _not_ crying."

Eiko was sitting on the windowsill, legs drawn up to her chest, framed by a blistered night sky. Her nightdress was streaks of bright white and dusty grey as the candles lining the room turned the shadows soft. Her cheek was trimmed with red; somewhere below a fire was still raging.

"Does he really want to be alone?" Eiko asked.

Garnet inclined her head. "Yes. You know how he is."

"But –"

"He'll be okay, Eiko. You don't have to worry."

She looked like she was going to argue, but instead she pursed her trembling lips and hiccupped three times.

In truth, Zidane had been angry. He wanted to aid the workmen damping the fires and freeing survivors from the rubble, but Garnet had been reluctant to let him go and an argument had ensued. She was frightened and he was frightened, though neither of them was sure what of, exactly (and even if, deep down, they _did_ know, neither would admit it).

He'd tried to storm past her but she begged him to stay, and he could never resist that desperate note in her voice. He became frustrated and blamed her, then blamed himself, then settled on spending the night alone.

She wasn't angry with him, only concerned. They needed answers fast yet he was reluctant to find them. She was beginning to think he was merely prolonging his ignorance, unwilling to learn the truth. Pretending was so much easier, afterall.

Garnet and Eiko had spent the evening healing those that were injured, with Garnet maintaining a pretence of aiding an allied regency rather than covering for her husband. It was all she could do to shut that thought out as she soothed and mended bodies cracked and blistered and mangled and dying.

They stopped when Eiko became too tired to concentrate, and when she displayed an uncharacteristic reluctance to be alone Garnet escorted her out and ended up sharing her chamber, much to Hilda's relief, who was too traumatised to care for her equally traumatised daughter.

Eiko slipped off the windowsill and hopped to the bed. It was a grand thing, larger than Garnet's at home, but for good reason. Snuggled in various places beneath the covers were six moogles. Some were asleep (their snores like the mews of a kitten) while others stared with squinty, sleepy eyes at Eiko, quietly worrying about their little mistress' attitude.

Eiko didn't attempt to get comfortable. She slouched against a pillow, bleary eyes rimmed with dark circles, expression hollow and unsettling.

Garnet crossed the room and navigated through the moogles to find a spot on the otherside of the bed. She sat quietly and waited, watching the rest of the moogles nod off to sleep.

Eiko whispered, "It was awful."

Garnet said nothing.

"I don't even know what happened, and I saw the whole thing." Eiko gestured with one hand out the window. "I was standing on the bridge so I could see everything – you know the one?"

Garnet nodded.

"I'd been watching Zidane the whole time. I knew he was gonna go for that Zaghnol because Zidane isn't afraid of anything, and that Zaghnol was like a gnat compared to him. And he… he killed it using that technique… the one we saw a lot near… near the end of the war, you know? The one that's gold and full of explosions."

Garnet nodded again, recalling this particular attack. It was possibly the most powerful in his arsenal when not in Trance, apparently fuelled by his theft abilities.

"Anyway," Eiko went on, "that sure killed it. Everyone was cheering… yelling. I was too. I was shouting, 'I knew he'd do it! I knew he'd do it!'. And then there was a bigger explosion. I didn't understand at first – I thought someone had cast a spell and missed completely, you know, like a proper rookie, because the explosion came from quite far away. But then someone screamed and pointed and I realised a whole aircraft was coming down! It came down real slow. The smoke coming from its tail made it look like a comet. Then it hit the ground and exploded and my brain was thinking what on Gaia could have gone so wrong to make it go down like that.

"Then there was another explosion, closer to where Zidane was this time. Rubble was flying up in the air and… and people too. And when I looked I…" She trailed off then, and hiccupped four times before continuing. "I saw Zidane with… with his hand o-outstretched like he'd done it. But I thought no way, no _way_, Zidane wouldn't… But he did it again. And… and I could smell the magic even from way up on the bridge. I could _feel_ it. No one else could, I bet, but I could. I just couldn't buh-believe…"

"Eiko…"

"I'm fine!" the little girl declared around a hiccup. "It's fine."

Garnet nodded. "Just let it out."

Eiko's eyes went glassy. "He was firing everywhere. Big shots of magical power like… You know when you hold back a really strong spell? You hold it and hold it until the last minute so it's really extra powerful? And sometimes it explodes outwards and it's so strong you almost lose control of it. Well, that's what it looked like. Massive balls of raw magic shooting like fireworks. Except it wasn't random. He was _controlling_ it. _Aiming_. People were screaming and I…and I…"

"Don't force yourself."

"I wondered whether I should summon!" Eiko blurted. "Madeen was telling me that he was an enemy and I should stop him before things got too out of hand! But…" Eiko looked at the bedsheets. "I was scared. No – not scared. I just didn't want to. I couldn't… not to Zidane. Not him. Not _ever_."

_I know, Eiko. Gods, I know._ "What then?"

Eiko looked out the window. "There was a massive one. A power surge, I mean. Zidane actually lifted up into the air and it made me think of –"

Don't say it don't say it please

" – Kuja on Terra. I mean, Zidane didn't look like him – all red and stuff – he looked normal. Not even Tranced. But –"

"I know what you mean," she cut her off a little too briskly. "What then?"

"He yelled. And then he funnelled a massive attack, the one that blew away half of the castle. I thought I was gonna die. The whole bridge was rocking and the _noise_." She hiccupped so loudly then that two of the moogles stirred beneath the covers.

"But you're not dead," Garnet reminded her solemnly. "You're alive and so is Hilda and Cid."

Eiko nodded, offering the first smile she'd seen since she'd arrived. "And Zidane."

"Yes."

Eiko paused. "I didn't see what happened after that. Everyone was scrambling to get off the bridge and the guards took me away. Blank brought Zidane in later but Zidane didn't say much. I didn't care anyway; I was just glad he was alive."

Garnet ran her fingers through her hair, staring thoughtfully out the window. _You see, Zidane? Even though Eiko saw it all with her own eyes she still loves you, and still has faith in you. Now you just need to have faith in yourself._

"Are you gonna stay the night?" Eiko asked.

"Sure. I'll stay as long as you need me."

"I know there's not much room…"

"It's fine. I'm used to it. Mene is usually in the bed and Zidane steals most of the covers anyway."

Eiko smiled and looked very tired. "Will everything be alright?"

Garnet looked at her. "Yes, Eiko. Everything will be fine. Don't worry about a thing."

ii.

It was a tumultuous meeting with Cid the next day, perhaps more so for Cid than Garnet, torn as he was between his personal relations with Garnet, the debts he owed Zidane from the war and his duty as regent. However, it was probably his own ignorance on certain matters that made things a lot simpler and favourable from Garnet's perspective, so she opted not to enlighten him, and neither did Eiko. In the end, they told him Zidane was sick and had trouble controlling his strength as a result, which wasn't completely a lie. Cid pondered as to which sickness would lend the ability to topple a city, and for that Garnet had no reply, though Cid pardoned Zidane to repay his debts, and Garnet promised to send assistance from Alexandria to aid rebuilding.

Cid suggested they leave sooner rather than later, and Garnet agreed. Lingering would only tear holes in whatever flimsy excuse Cid was planning to unfurl to cover the involvement of Alexandria's Prince Consort, though for better or worse the primary witnesses were dead, aside from Blank.

Now she found herself in her private chamber aboard the Red Rose as they took a direct path to Alexandria, staring at Zidane, who was reclined in an armchair, bored, moody and untalkative.

"Are you still mad at me?" Garnet inquired tentatively.

"No."

"... You are, aren't you?"

"..."

She sighed, and pushed her light lunch of herb soufflé around the plate. "You couldn't have stayed, Zidane. There was nothing you could have done."

Zidane threw her a cross look. "There's always something to be done! I could've helped to recover belongings from the wreckages or... or shifted blocks of debris, or carried the wounded!"

"What I meant," Garnet said, "was that your presence would have complicated matters. I know you mean well but right now it's best you return to Alexandria."

He groaned and squished himself into the armchair, tail curling round him with a frustrated twitch.

Garnet abandoned her lunch and perched on the chair's arm. "Please don't be difficult Zidane. I know how you must feel –"

"You have no idea how I feel," he grumbled into the upholstery.

She sighed, feeling her own frustrations creep up on her. "Doctor Tot will be there when we arrive to give you a once over."

"Fantastic."

"It's better than nothing, and you refuse to see Mikoto so I'm afraid you'll have to deal with Doctor Tot's inspection instead."

"Mmph umf eur," he huffed into the chair.

Garnet's worry disguised itself as exasperation, easier to manage as it was. Impatience was foreign to her, but she could deal with that false emotion compared to anxiety. Once again, she was helpless, and feeling the need to ease the situation she fruitlessly put her hand against his half-covered forehead to feel for a temperature, simultaneously directing tendrils of magic through his scrunched up body in hope she might detect an abnormality. But she only got as far as the bruising on his back before he grunted impatiently and pushed her hand away.

Accepting this, she inquired, "How do you feel?"

"Like shit."

"No, not physically – or mentally. Do you feel any... _different_?" It was hard to put it into words, though any warrior would understand that she meant the aura of power embedded within those who possessed it, unnoticeable until it was drained or increased, as part as oneself as blood and sinew.

He understood anyway. "Hmm... I feel... like, weird."

"Weird...?"

"I don't know the medical term, Dag. I just feel _weird_... different."

Years of training and experience as a white mage didn't lend her any answer to that; as usual, she was helpless.

So Garnet surrendered her meagre diagnosis and pushed and prodded him until she could wriggle into his lap, where she entwined her arms around his neck and placed a kiss on his pouty lips.

"I trust you, Zidane."

He looked away. "I know. I just wish I could trust myself."

iii.

Unfortunately, even personal matters couldn't excuse a queen from her duty, and the moment Dagger arrived in Alexandria she was practically whisked off her feet by a backup of work, sparing nothing but an apologetic look and a warning of 'You better go see Doctor Tot, Zidane! I'll be checking later!'

She knew him well, but there was no escaping this check up. Zidane hated doctors and medical care in general, opting to walk off even the direst of lesions and pausing only to accept aid when it was Dagger giving him a once over, which was more due to her hotness and the possibility of a grope than the positives of medical care.

But there was no chance of pulling a hot chick now, even his own wife, Zidane moodily acknowledged, even if he _was_ stripped to his underwear in one the castle's ambiguous rooms waiting to be examined.

"That's quite some bruising," Doctor Tot commented, and Zidane blanched as an unwelcome finger prodded the sensitive skin between his shoulder blades. "Some poultice will clear that up, but I guess that's beside the point, eh?" He paused. "Captain Steiner briefed me on what happened in Lindblum, and though I'm no expert in the way magic functions around the body, as I unfortunately lack such abilities, I will try my best to deduce the cause of your problem."

"I don't think you'll be able to help," Zidane warned. "But I'm here to make Dag happy, so do whatever you have to do."

Doctor Tot grunted, eyes frantically calculating behind his thick spectacles as he plugged a stethoscope into his ears and pressed the bell against Zidane's chest, barely remembering to mumble, "Just take deep breaths for me."

And so it went on; Zidane was obedient as if Baku himself was overseeing the examination, enduring every practical the doctor threw at him, from having his reflexes tested with a small hammer to the fur on his tail being stroked the wrong way. He didn't even raise a protest when the doctor insisted on both a blood and urine sample, and after that Zidane was nothing but relieved when the doctor said the physical examination was complete.

"So, what's the word, doc?" Zidane said as he pulled his shirt back on.

Doctor Tot flicked through the notes he'd scrawled between his assessments, flaming brow furrowed either in concentration or confusion. "Hmmm," he said. "Hmmmm."

"Um... something more specific, please?"

Doctor Tot blinked up at him, as if surprised by his presence. "Well, it's impossible to make an accurate diagnosis without proper inspection of the findings," he told him matter-of-factly. "But if you don't' mind, I'd like to ask you a few questions."

Zidane deflated a bit and the doctor smiled. "Don't worry," he reassured. "It wont take long."

Regardless, the Genome dejectedly slumped into a nearby chair, and waved a hand, feeling like he was talking to a shrink when the doctor took the chair opposite with a notebook propped on his knee.

"Tell me exactly what happened the moment you began to lose control, if you please."

Zidane shrugged. "I dunno. It's weird. I can't explain it. I just like, lost control, but... at the same time I didn't." His eyes searched the ceiling for a more coherent explanation. "I guess you could say I had such a build up of power that if I didn't get it out of me it was gonna tear _me_ apart, instead. So I got it out but... it was weird 'cause I was directing it at places with the intent to do damage."

"Mmm," Doctor Tot said, scribbling words in his notebook. "Very out of character."

"Yeah..."

"Has there been any changes to your daily routine?"

"Um...no."

"Are you eating healthily?"

"I think so. I don't eat as much as I used to, but I'm still on three meals a day."

"Have you had any additional stress of late? Social, domestic or otherwise?"

"Nothin' out of the ordinary."

"And how are your sleeping habits?"

At this Zidane fell silent, and Doctor Tot, who had been busy scribbling notes, lifted his gaze to scrutinise the Genome.

"Ah... their um, not so good," he admitted hesitantly, and his tail curling with obvious discomfort.

"Oh?" the doctor prompted.

"Well, you're gonna think I'm crazy," Zidane prolonged with a bashful scratch to his dishevelled mop. "I mean, I think_ I'm_ crazy. Or should be crazy or... something... It's just that, well..." He hesitated, then decided to cut to it. "I kinda don't sleep... like, at all. Ever."

Doctor Tot's brow knitted once more. "You mean you get only a few hours a night?"

"Ah... no. I mean I literally don't sleep."

Doctor Tot wallowed in silence for a moment as he digested this odd revelation. "When was the last time you slept?"

Zidane's eyes searched the ceiling again and he twiddled his thumbs, humming indecisively. "Well... I actually got two hours after the Lindblum ordeal because exerting so much power knackered me out."

"And before that?"

"I dunno... maybe four days before?"

"...For how long?"

"Um... an hour? Maybe two?"

Again Doctor Tot fell into reflective, disbelieving silence. "And you feel no side effects from this? Fatigue, weakness, disorientation, hallucinations?"

"Nope. Nowt. I don't even get tired."

"This is... very unusual," Tot allowed slowly.

"Tell me about. It totally freaked me out at first. I kept waiting for it all to catch up on me but it didn't!"

"Does Her Majesty know about this?" the doctor asked as he wrote in slow strokes across the page.

Zidane shook his head. "No. No way. I couldn't tell her. She's got so much to worry about as it is... If she wakes up I pretend I'm asleep. I guess she just assumes she falls asleep before me and I wake up before her."

"If you don't mind me asking," Tot said, "what exactly do you do to pass the time?"

Zidane's tail twitched once, then fell into an uneasy swing. "I just... think. Sit on the balcony and think." And with that came a flash of memory: Maidain Sari at night, the stars a muddle of startling constellations above, and Zidane telling Vivi not to think so much and to take life as it comes.

He couldn't help the bitter grin that quirked his lips.

Doctor Tot looked like he might pry into such thoughts, but perhaps decided against it, and Zidane cut him off anyway.

"I hate going to sleep now," he admitted. "I have these... dreams. Nightmares. In them I'm... someone else. I'm destroying Gaia – or a planet that looks like Gaia. And... and I'm enjoying it." He rolled his shoulders uncomfortably. "I'd rather stay awake then feel like that."

Doctor Tot stared at him, then snapped his notebook shut and stood. "Well, I think we can conclude the examination for today. I can prescribe you some medication to artificially lull you into slumber."

"Sleeping weed?" Zidane grinned through his private joke, but Doctor Tot actually confirmed this.

"Well, yes. But a diluted version designed to be less addictive, and therefore good for prolonged use."

Zidane pouted grumpily. "I don't wanna drug myself to sleep for the rest of my life."

Tot cocked a sympathetic eye at him. "I'll see what the results from the physical turn up. 'Til then be sure to take the substance I prescribe for you."

Zidane blinked up at him, then smiled crookedly. "Righto. Anything else?"

Tot was already pacing with a furious scowl, hands clasped behind his back, and once again he threw Zidane a look that seemed surprised by his presence. "For now I can only suggest you visit your relatives. This issue sounds very much as though it stems from Genome origin, and unfortunately I know so little about your species it's hard for me to accurately determine your problem."

"Species," Zidane muttered. "Hm. Well, I'll keep you updated, doc. For what good it'll do. Oh and um, don't tell Dag about me not sleeping, okay? She's worried enough as it is."

"Mmm mmm," Doctor Tot said, already adrift in his thoughts, though he called him back with a question as Zidane was half way out the door.

"Master Zidane, if you don't mind me asking, and be prepared that it is a bold thing to ask and is not intended to offend..."

"What?"  
"Did you enjoy destroying Lindblum?"

Zidane cast him a startled look, tail frozen in its leisurely swing. "I... I-I don't... I don't know. I haven't thought about it."

"Perhaps it is something you should consider, and perhaps the answer will better guide you to seek out your fellow Genomes for assistance."

_In other words_, Zidane deduced, _I'm fucked and on my own._

But perhaps it was better that way. Afterall, this was turning into somewhat of a family affair.


	24. When It Rains

Heh. I can't believe this fic is now longer than Brick By Brick. I remember saying this was gonna be half the size of BBB, if that. Oh well.

Thank you again for all your reviews. But uh... try not to freak out COMPLETELY, 'cause this chapter is pretty angsty. It's not setting the mood for the rest of story, so suck up and bear it for a few chapters, eh? Y'all know it'll sort itself out. Also, sorry for the short chapter but they can't all be winners, and I'll post the next chapter in a few days. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Three**  
When It Rains...

i.

Garnet would never have dreamed her day would end as it did. Even her worst nightmares paled in comparison to this. As much as the day was lacking in beasts from some nether world and sorcerers cast from a mould of iniquity, its tribulations were formed of matters so much more frightening that she could only wish for such childish darkness to ease the stark reality.

ii.

The day had started normally, to an extent. Zidane had been fast asleep when she awoke, tail wrapped firmly around her upper thigh. He didn't stir when she ran her fingers through his hair, nor when she unwound his tail, not even when she gave it a playful tug. She thought that would be a sure fire to rouse him, but he must have been out cold because she had to shake him awake in the end. Any concern she had over this deep sleep was flattened when, as usual, he was overwhelmed by a more carnal need, and she could do nothing but surrender to his demanding hands.

Distracting as he was, she held him accountable for her time keeping an hour later.

"I'm _late_," she grated for third time while attempting to pull on her dress, which was no easy feat considering the weight of the winter velvet and intricacy of the lacing.

"For what?" came the drawn out whine from the bed.

"A meeting with the Duchess of Carnes," Garnet informed primly. "And believe me, that lady doesn't like to be kept waiting. Not to mention it doesn't do well for a queen to harbour a reputation of being late."

"So a meeting is more important than staying in bed with me?"

"I've been in bed with you all evening, all night and all morning, what more do –"

"The morning isn't over until midday."

"I'm not arguing anymore. Please put on some clothes so Nell and Briar can help me with this."

"Nah. Send 'em in anyway."

" You could at least get under the covers."

"But how would I enjoy the fresh morning air then?"

Garnet huffed, and gave up lacing the bodice of her dress using the looking glass. "_You_... are a real thorn in my side. Can you at least lace this for me?"

Zidane's grin was wide, lazy and infuriatingly devious as he rolled onto his side and leaned on an elbow. "What'll you do for me in return?"

The look she threw him was incredulous. "_Again_?"

"One more for luck?"

"I _am_ _late_!" she gritted, growing impatient. "_Please_, Zidane!"

He snorted and sat up, shunning both sheet and clothes. "See how far a simple please gets you? C'mere then."

She perched on the edge of the bed, pressing the corset against her bust as he began to deftly weave coarse ribbon through eyelets.

"Today's your first day back at the theatre, isn't it?" Garnet asked.

"Mm-hm," Zidane hummed a strangely evasive note, hoping to edge further questioning into obscurity, but Garnet wouldn't let him have it.

"It is just at Ruby's Theatre, right?"

"Yes, Dag," came the notably sharp reply as his nifty fingers continued to thread and pull her corset tighter.

She went to apologise for pestering, as founded as the pestering was, but decided to let it go. Zidane had been cooped up in the castle for a month since the Lindblum incident through Garnet's desire alone. It was only a matter of time before he broke free of such confines, even at the expense of worrying his wife to Ifrit's Inferno and back. But putting aside his restless nature, she acknowledged that nothing similar had occurred throughout his weeks of confinement, so could do nothing but let him go.

iii.

The rest of the day was boring for her. The Duchess had been less than impressed by Garnet's late arrival and dishevelled appearance, and the disapproving scrutiny from her ladies-in-waiting did nothing to ease the guilt. Besides, she was distracted by Zidane's absence. She had grown fond of his presence around the castle, a nuisance though he was at times, for he'd taken a liking to hiding behind corners and inside antique cupboards (even a giant vase at one point) to jump out at her as she passed. That got old quickly and Steiner tired of Zidane's ability to muddle the already muddled ranks of his Knights, using various techniques including, but not limited to, applying glue to the soles of their shoes and gloves and having them deliver one hundred and fifteen oglops to Ruby's Mini Theatre for Ruby herself, addressed from one Blank Tribal.

Despite all that, she both missed and worried for him profusely, so against her better judgement she sent an uncover moogle to check that Zidane was fine at the theatre (one with more tact than Mene), and it was just as the moogle scuttled away that a sharp pain in her temple shot across her forehead.

"Ouch," she said, rubbing two fingers beside her right eye. A brief moment of foreign panic accompanied this, then vanished, leaving behind the promise of a brutal headache.

"Good day, Your Majesty."

"Oh!" she said, and turned to contemplate her visitor. "I didn't see you, Doctor Tot. Good day."

"Lost in thought?" he said with a wry grin ruffling his beard. "I've heard that's a dangerous past time."

She giggled, still massaging her temple. "Not really. I um... I guess I just miss Zidane. He's gone to town, you know, to start acting again in Ruby's Theatre."

Tot's brow furrowed a moment, like a sudden thundercloud obscuring the sky. "Oh, he has?"

Garnet's heart plunged. "Is there a problem?"

Tot's eyes became skittish behind his spectacles. "Oh, ah, no. No problem. Has he been... well, of late?"

Garnet glanced over her shoulder at her protégé of guards and ladies-in-waiting. "I have some time spare for lunch. Would you mind keeping me company?"

"It would be my pleasure!" the doctor acquiesced, removing his top hat. "Lead the way, Your Majesty."

Garnet led him to a small room off the wing of the West Library, a place of scholars, usually, when they weren't to be found trawling through the adjoining room. A fire roared beneath an ornate mantle, warding off the chills of the castle, and the scholars, never known for tidiness, had left books strewn across the lone table and numerous armchairs as a bookshelf has exploded outwards. Garnet removed the books from a chair and sat down, whereupon Tot did the same. He was kind enough to give her something for the headache, then they exchanged trivial pleasantries until a servant brought a light lunch of spinach and cheese wrapped in filo parcels, and only then did the conversation turn heavy.

"I understand that you must maintain the tradition of confidentiality with your patients," Garnet said. "But I really must ask you a few questions concerning... Zidane. Or perhaps not questions as such; sometimes I need someone who might hold an academic light to my troubles."

Doctor Tot chuckled, sipping his tea before admitting, "You know, I'm not actually a medical doctor. I am a Doctor of Philosophy, though I specialised in teaching at the request of your mother, and in my years of experience I learnt much about the art of medicine too."

"So technically you don't honour the confidentiality code, right?" she conspired with a wink that completely threw Tot off.

"Uh... hahaha. I do believe Master Tribal's influence is becoming apparent."

She smiled sheepishly and shrugged a shoulder. "Perhaps. But if you'd be kind enough to hear me out..."

"Of course."

"What did you find when you examined Zidane, those weeks ago? He's been terribly evasive about it and your swift return to Treno made it nearly impossible to discreetly send you even a letter."

Doctor scratched his flaming mane. "Mmm. I apologise for my inaccessibility. But... I'm reluctant to admit that... I didn't find much concerning Zidane's condition. The results from the physical and samples deemed him healthy. Extraordinarily so. He seems largely unaffected by the... incident."

"He does feel guilty," Garnet insisted.

"I'm sure he does," Tot allowed. "But... most people would have to undergo an extensive recovery process – mentally, I mean."

"You mean... seeing a shrink and such?"

"Well, yes. But Zidane... Hm. It's hard to say."

Garnet leaned back in the armchair, contemplating the doctor. "But you said he has a condition. What is it, exactly?"

Tot waved a hand, the other daintily holding the teacup. "Ah, but there you have me! I have no idea. I'm utterly, infuriatingly clueless. There are no books on Gaia that describe the Genomes, and I am convinced this... this lapse in judgement and surge of power is the root of his problem. But he wont reveal anything and therefore I cannot aid him."

"That makes two of us, then," Garnet admitted grumpily.

After a moment of thoughtful silence, Tot ventured, "How is he... sleeping?"

"Huh?" Garnet blinked, thrown by the question. "Um, fine. Why?"

"Mm. No reason," the doctor waved it off. "Stress just... causes adjustments to the sleeping routine."

"Oh," Garnet said, sensing Tot was withholding some information and intending to drill Zidane for answers later. "Regardless, I'd say he's made some improvement over the month. Hence why he's returned to work."

Tot nodded hesitantly. "Maybe we can finally put this ordeal behind us, then."

Garnet severely doubted this. She harboured her own theories about Zidane's 'condition' that he doubtlessly shared too, though they remained unspoken. Perhaps she was naive to think his origin and original purpose would dissipate following the destruction of Terra and the deaths of both Garland and Kuja. It was a frightening thought, and like any frightening thought that was out of her control, she tidily put it aside and could only hope it wouldn't catch up with her.

Garnet didn't deny that they needed to see Mikoto, but Zidane was so infuriatingly stubborn about going it would take the intervention of the gods and some well placed luck to drag him aboard the Red Rose, or at the very least some help from her old friend, sleeping weed, which she had considered but duly dismissed, because that would only make Zidane angry and uncooperative.

Despite this, Garnet severely regretted not taking action sooner when not a moment later the moogle returned with a reply.

iv.

'When it rains, it pours,' her father used to say. It was a phrase she associated with him explicitly, never far from his lips as he spilled over some ambiguous document or another, minor through the eyes of an eight-year-old child, princess or not. She remembered so clearly the creases chiselled into his brow as he pored by candlelight over those papers. It was only years later that she appreciated the phrase, and found so many circumstances to apply it to in the few short years since her sixteenth birthday.

Oddly, it was her father's frown she recalled now and the gruff mutter of that phrase beneath his troubled breath when Beatrix approached her at a run, eternally unruffled in appearance and no tremor to her voice as she told her they had found him.

Of course, he'd been in the most absurd location, as if he'd turned the whole thing into a game, a challenge. She didn't appreciate it, but judging by Beatrix's tense silence she wondered if she'd get the chance to berate him for it.

She could have questioned Beatrix as they passed through corridors and halls, down stone steps and to the canal front, or as she urged the bargeman to pole faster across Alexandria's lake. But there was no point. She would see soon enough, and she didn't want any warning as to his condition. The fact he'd gone so far from the castle was worrying in itself; she didn't want to dwell on the implications until she'd seen him.

The day was bright overhead. A sky frosted blue by a wintry sun, cold even with her winter furs on. The lake was placid and iced around the edges; large fish curiously circled their boat, their delicate dorsal fins breaching the surface like ghostly hands.

The canal boat rucked against a muddy embankment and she spotted a row boat further along, empty in all respects, the oars drifting on the wake as if inconspicuously fleeing the scene.

"This way," Beatrix said. "Top watch spotted him leaving earlier this morning but didn't think to report it. You know how he is."

Garnet followed Beatrix silently through the brush, ankle-high grass soaked with dew. Alexandria's fields rolled around them in wintry greens and the mountains were a distant smudge far ahead. The way was flat, so she needed no direction in order to find him. She spotted him standing some way ahead and her heart jarred with relief. He was alive and the city was intact. She barely heard herself gasp his name before she broke into a run across the grassy knoll, heedless of the heavy velvet snatching grass stains along its hem.

She stopped not a heartbeat later, eager pace slowing to a hesitant crawl. Zidane had his back to her, but it _was_ Zidane, there was no mistaking him, but something was off. Wrong.

Garnet hesitated, stopped completely in her tracks, and again missed the questioning call she extended to him. Firstly, there was something misplaced about his being. Not physically, but in the aura that both her and Eiko had the ability to detect. It was gone now; the air around him was dead space, like a moat that had been drained.

And then she noticed the second abnormality, perhaps the thing that sparked her vacillation. Beatrix was beside her before she could articulate her observation, but judging by Beatrix's expression there was no need to share it; she already knew what Garnet's mind was struggling to process.

Zidane's tail was utterly still. In fact, _he_ was utterly still. Not a twitch or backward glance since she'd pulled up in the boat. And that tail – it chilled her to the core. Not only was it motionless but caught in mid-swing, the tip curled some way past his right knee, so that for an absurd moment she wondered if he'd been caught by a Stop spell.

Heart thundering in her ears, she crept forward slowly, one excruciating step after another, and only when she'd reached his side and he still hadn't responded did she dash to his front.

She recoiled instantly. His eyes were open, pupils dilated and fixed on the horizon, unseeing and glazed like glass orbs. His expression was blank, unreadable, closed mouthed and utterly still. He was a statue, frozen in time as if by the whim of some god, and for an instant she thought her mind had plunged into madness.

"Zidane!" she yelled, grabbing his arms and shaking him. Contrary to his stone-like immobility, the motion yielded a fluid response. He was soft beneath her touch, and still warm. "Zidane... wake up! Wake _up_!"

"We should get him back to the castle," Beatrix grimly suggested.

Garnet clung to his arms like a guideline, mouth agape in horrified disbelief as his sightless gazed shunned her. "No... No this can't happen. This can't be happening. He was fine this morning – he was getting _better_!"

"All is not lost," Beatrix reassured. "See how he breathes? And his heart beats yet."

Garnet frantically pressed her ear to the cotton shirt he wore, and only after the longest minute did she hear the faint, slow thud of a beat, unnatural in its languor, but there nonetheless, and indeed, now she stared, she saw the slight rise and fall of his chest, no more than six rises a minute.

"I cannot tell his condition," Beatrix said, "but it seems he still lives. We should get him back to the castle and see Doctor Tot –"

"Screw the castle!" Garnet yelled as she whirled to face her. "Send me the Red Rose! We dispatch immediately for the Black Mage Village! Send a moogle ahead to warn them of our arrival!"

And on the waves of her growing panic rode the words of a little mage, as startlingly clear as if he'd spoken them not a day before in a voice trembling but resigned:

_I thought I understood what it means to live and to die. But only because I thought stopping was different from dying... I don't think I really understand what it means to live and die. Am I gonna stop pretty soon, too?_


	25. System Error

Be prepared for a long chapter and please consider this before criticising its content: this is a farfetched theory biology wise – even if it is based off the mad-scientist Genome variety. Whether it's believable or not is up to you, but try and remember that this is fantasy so I can twist whatever the hell I want without pesky reality getting in the way. So if I've skimmed any facts, it might be best you skim them too, heh heh.

That aside, enjoy!

(And for those wondering about updates and RL, please check my profile)

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Four**  
System Error

i.

She didn't know whether she appreciated the distractions thrown at her between wilted brush and spiny branch. They might have reigned in her scattered wits but she still heartily cursed the Black Mage Village's remote location, barely accessible by foot and all but accessible via airship. Only a few hours ago she might have found the excursion an invigorating change to her queenly routine, but when one party member was tethered somewhere between life and death it only exuberated her fretful disposition.

Thankfully, there was Steiner and Blank, the latter of whom had hitched a ride on the Rose after milling around the castle in search for Zidane. Ruby had assumed Zidane was late for rehearsal and had sent Blank to retrieve him for a fiery punishment. The redhead had expected to find his brother hungover or just plain ass lazy, but instead he got this. Regardless, he agreed to accompany them into the dead forest, and was given the task of carrying his inert brethren as thanks.

"Sweet fucking Alexander, you were serious about not stopping, weren't you?" he huffed a complaint under his breath.

"Silence," Steiner hissed, who was solely on the offence, though attacks were few and far between; he thought it best they stick to the paths and remain as silent as possible, so to avoid any unwelcome trouble.

"I don't give a fuck!" Blank seethed, panting beneath the weight of Zidane, whom was being carried piggy-back style. "Do you know how heavy this bastard is? I'm gonna have back problems for weeks."

Garnet was striding ahead, eager as anyone to reach the village and unable to behold her comatose husband too long. She was dressed in the clothes of an airship pilot, the only available change of dress on such short notice, and though the rough hessian pants and cotton shirt accommodated the battles, it didn't obstruct the misty rain, and she had knotted her hair into a bun some time ago.

Now she threw an apologetic look toward Blank, who was wet more from sweat than the rain and had also come in gear suited for neither trek nor danger; even his dagger had been left behind.

"I'm sorry, Blank," she said. "It shouldn't be much further, though we'll be trekking into nightfall."

"That's a bad fucking idea," was Blank's opinion. "This shit is gonna get crazy – _crazier_ – when the sun goes down. You really think Rusty can hold off all the nastys alone?" As an afterthought he muttered, "And of course Zidane's only blood relatives would live like fucking hermits in the middle of a huge-ass forest."

Garnet wiped moisture from her eyes and slicked back her hair, choosing to ignore the latter comment. "I'm not taking any chances. What if... what if there's some kind of time limit... What if he's _dying_? Are you really willing to take that risk?"

Blank paused to shift the weight on his back and concluded: "Ah, geez. What a pain in the ass."

"Let us not dither," Steiner suggested, his face shadowed beneath the lip of his helm. "We should cover as much ground as possible while daylight remains our ally."

Blank looked on, stony faced and grumpy, but Garnet could see the disquiet beneath his stoical brow regardless; he wouldn't be here if he didn't care for his brother.

And so they trekked on in weary silence, the rain dampening their already dampened spirits, then increasing in fervour as if to spite them. Even the owls fell silent, considering them through sleepy, half-curious lids from the sanctuary of their roosts. Rain was sparse in this land throughout the year, but when it rained it really rained, often days at a time; just their luck to come during that period, Garnet lamented miserably.

To make matters worse, half way into their trek the path became muddy beneath the downpour, and the normally baked dirt became a slippery soup. This would have been a minor inconvenience at any other time, but Steiner kept sinking into the deeper patches due to his weighty armour, and nearly every time Garnet had to pull him out she usually went flying backwards, so now the seat of her pants was caked in fetid mud. Blank fared no better either, struggling to maintain purchase when there was another body to consider. Luckily his thieving agility kept him on his feet, but Garnet suffered several minor heart attacks just watching him struggle across the unaccommodating terrain.

Naturally, things didn't get better the closer they got to the village.

After they'd cleared a particular soggy marsh they were stopped short in their tracks when the brush to their right rustled ominously. There was no time to escape before a fully grown Marlboro bustled into view, tentacles flailing and testing the air while its grotesque mouth opened in a snarl that bellowed noxious fumes.

"Mother of fuck, which god did I piss of to deserve this?" Blank spluttered as Steiner moved with halting grace to the forefront of their uncertain line, armoured feet slurping and belching through the mud.

Garnet had to agree with him, but she brandished her courage anyway, ready to aid her knight if he so needed it.

Before the Marlboro could gain a semblance of footing Steiner bellowed something inscrutable and charged, Defender held aloft to cut off its slithery tentacles. They went flying in all directions, twitching like snakes in the mud, hot, purple blood oozing from the stems. The beast roared, multiple eyes rolling in their sockets, and from its mouth came a cloud of dark gas. Garnet reared back, hand crossed over her face, and Blank moved into the brush, cursing and gagging but unaffected.

Steiner was not so lucky, caught as he was in the monster's firing line. When the noxious fog cleared Garnet noted his disorientation and the darkness afflicting his eyes. The spell to aid his recovery came naturally to her, but too slow. Caught in a tangled web of various afflictions, Steiner was unable to dodge when the beast threw itself forward on legs of root, a particularly thick tentacle swatting all one hundred pounds of armour and Steiner to the side like a fly.

Steiner bellowed as he hit the ground, more from confusion than hurt as the landscape gave way beneath him, restraining him with stodgy fingers.

"Steiner!" Garnet yelled, and the Marlboro turned its yellow eyes on her. She reared back in alarm as it progressed a slithery step and Blank shouted something like a warning. She sought the power of the Eidolons humming inside her mind, but it was already too late and the Marlboro was so close she could smell its aroma, like compost and ammonia.

Its tentacles whipped the air, Steiner bellowed and she shut her eyes.

But the cry of pain came not from her mouth, but from that of the beast. She staggered backward in simple surprise, unheeding of the mud she fell into, and when she beheld the monster she saw it wreathed in flames. The air was coppery, thrumming with potent magic that had a familiar edge. It took a moment for it to click into place because it had been so long, but she figured it out before she spotted them: a trio of Black Mages breaching the flora, hands outstretched and lamplight eyes flaring.

Another wave of magic and the Marlboro shrivelled, howling a series of chilling death notes as it shrank into the foliage then collapsed, a charred mound of plant still licked with unnatural flames.

Silence settled on the exhausted travellers, and Garnet leaned forward on her hands, fighting off a wave of nausea. It was just too much, too much too quickly. To think she couldn't even protect Zidane at his most vulnerable, if anything had happened –

A gloved hand broke her field of vision and she looked up. A Black Mage stared down at her, eyes twinkling good naturedly.

"Hallo, I'm Mr. 127. That sure was a close call!"

ii.

As soon as they breached the village Blank immediately asked to be directed to the nearest bath. Garnet didn't begrudge him, and even dismissed Steiner to do the same. He was reluctant to leave and suggested heatedly that Garnet take a moment to compose herself too, but she wouldn't have any of it.

The Black Mage who had taken Zidane from Blank – Mr 238 – led her to a hut on the outskirts of the village, newly built and minus the perfunctory smiley face. The rain rapped a furious beat on the slippery boards that connected the dwellings, and the way was bare. Night had fallen prematurely as the result of thick clouds bunched across the sky, though the mood was intersected by amber light falling in shafts from the houses' windows. Garnet was shivering by now but more anxious about the exposure Zidane had endured, unable as he was to keep warm; heavens help her if his condition was made worse by her inattentiveness.

They stopped outside the front door and, as polite as any black mage, Mr 238 conducted an awkward rap on the wooden door around Zidane's limp form. For a moment they could hear only rain and the chorus of owls, a yelp from a monster, and then the door flew open and Garnet was blinking into a block of amber and aromatic wave of cooking.

Mikoto stared at her from the entrance, hands on either side of the door frame, wearing a frown on her face that said Garnet had come at an inconvenient time – the kind that said _any time_ would have been inconvenient. Mikoto's blonde hair was neatly pinned from her face and the pink smock she wore revealed the curves of early womanhood. A simple bow adorned her tail and a spotless apron was tied about her slender waist.

Abruptly, she barked "Take him inside and stand him up if you can; his legs should yield if you get them straight enough." She turned her gaze to Garnet. "You can come in too."

Too tired, wet and stressed to be bothered by her tone, Garnet could only comply, trudging out of the abdominal weather and into the cosy confines of Mikoto's house.

It was indeed quaint, and notably unadorned. There was a cupboard stacked with crockery against the wall, a small cooking space at the back with pans and herbs swinging in bundles from the ceiling, a table and two chairs, a bookshelf, a couch and a claret rug. A ladder led up to a hidden second floor, which she presumed was a sleeping space, for she spotted no beds.

There was nothing superfluous about this home, aside, perhaps, from the bundle of wild flowers propped in a clay vase on the table. Other than that it was spotless, almost obsessively so, and just as she wondered whether Mikoto had a cleaning complex the girl said, "You're dripping all over the floor. Please stand on the rug and I'll bring you a towel. Mr 238, there's no need to faff about where to put him, just by the couch will be fine. Thank you."

Garnet shuffled dumbly onto the rug, shivering like a flan, and watched with heavy trepidation as the mage did indeed manage to stand Zidane up. It made her feel a bit sick seeing him moved into position like a doll, rain water dripping from his drenched clothes and the ends of his hair. She'd closed his eyes (torn about this for a long time as the act seemed more like death than sleep) but now she didn't know which was worse, having him standing there with his eyes open or closed.

"Take it, would you?" the crisp demand came from beside her and she snapped her gaze on Mikoto, impatiently waving a towel in front of her. "I beg your pardon," she apologised as she took it, and numbly made the effort to dry herself off, and as an afterthought she wiped the rain from Zidane's face too.

Mr 238 took his leave, so Garnet was alone with, who she supposed could be called, her sister-in-law.

"I'm making a stew," Mikoto informed her matter-of-factly. "Would you like some?"

"S-stew...?" Garnet repeated dumbly. "I ah... no. Thank you. I'd rather talk about Zidane. You're the only person who can help and I –"

"There's not much to talk about, really," Mikoto dismissed as she busied around the kitchenette, lifting the lid of a pot perched on the stove and stirring the contents with a wooden spoon.

Garnet had never really warmed to Zidane's sister, though she would never tell him; he still referred to her as 'sis' with an affection she considered a little misplaced. Pessimistic throughout the war, blunt and tactless, Garnet struggled to lay the foundations of a friendship with her regardless of whether she'd dragged Zidane from the Iifa Tree. Garnet sympathised with her troubled origin, no less turbulent than Zidane's or Kuja's, but in the end she couldn't dispute her own feelings, and now they frothed to the surface as the day's events finally scraped the last of her reservation away.

"Will you just tell me what's going on?" she flared hotly. "I haven't trekked through hours of monster-infested, rain soaked forest to be served stew. I want an explanation."

Mikoto stared at her in that disconcerting way all the Genomes had mastered, though beneath that vacant mask were genuine flickers of emotion, perhaps something close to distaste, maybe even surprise. It was hard to tell.

She shrugged, and took the stew off the heat with a cool explanation. "I assumed you'd be hungry after a trek. Gaians seem so fond of their cuisine, though it seems a bother to me. Why embellish your diet with so much unnecessary – and often unhealthy – substances? It's a waste of time." She wiped her hands on a dishcloth, fixing Garnet with that stare again, which Garnet returned with her chin slightly lifted, refusing to be intimidated.

"I'll have a look at him now," Mikoto offered, "though there's little good I can do momentarily. We'll have to wait until morning."

"So he wont die?" Garnet inquired hopefully, crossing the small space to stand beside her husband.

"No," she replied bluntly. "Not until he starves, anyway."

iii.

Mikoto began by walking in slow circles around him, prodded and pinching like he was a prize cow at a farmer's market. Garnet watched from the sidelines, opting to stand because her nerves wouldn't let her sit, shivering despite herself, but Mikoto hadn't offered anything beside the stew so she didn't bother her.

The female Genome stopped in front of him, and it was only then that Garnet could truly appreciate the eerie similarity between them. While Zidane was hardly the picture of masculinity with his short, lean build and elfin features, their sexes were easily distinguished: Mikoto was shorter and daintier, her facial features feminine and pretty. Though Zidane's hair colour was both ruddy and bleached in places from enduring a harsher climate than Terra, Garnet could tell their hair colour would have matched to the very shade, and their eyes too.

"I can't read him," Mikoto broke into her brooding observations.

"Hm?"

"His mind is closed off completely." When Garnet met this with a blank stare Mikoto granted a more thorough explanation. "Garland installed within those who were granted souls the ability to communicate telepathically, when in range. Only Garland could bend time and space to communicate to us from afar, allowing him to issue commands while he was on Terra and we on Gaia. Zidane was unable to tap into this ability due to his upbringing on Gaia, though it doesn't prevent a one way communication."

"He heard Garland in Memoria," Garnet remembered. "And Kuja at the Iifa Tree..."

Mikoto shrugged ambiguously. "At any rate, I can't make the connection anymore."

"Is that how _you_ found him in the Iifa Tree?" Garnet asked suddenly.

Mikoto hesitated. "After a fashion, yes. It... it was Kuja who informed me of his location... before he died."

Garnet said nothing, once again unsettled by the lighter side of the man that tore her world apart and saved Zidane's life. She returned the subject to Zidane. "What's happened to him? Do you know?"

"Of course," Mikoto snorted frankly, withdrawing from her brief inspection and leaving Zidane standing there like a piece of furniture. Before she could probe for answers Garnet worried, "Should we... cover him? Lay him down? Is he cold?"

Mikoto had returned to the kitchen to pour water into a saucepan. She shrugged again and simply said, "It won't make a difference. He's completely desensitized to the environment at the moment. Just leave him."

Garnet wished to at least lay him on the couch, but couldn't move him alone and Mikoto was so uncooperative she could only grudgingly drag a chair into the limbo between the table and her husband. "Tell me everything."

Mikoto made some tea that smelt strongly of herbs and lemon. She made a cup for Garnet without invitation before delving into an explanation.

"You know Zidane's true purpose?" she said as she took the only other seat at the table and cradled a teacup in both hands, steam curling around her heart shaped face.

Garnet nodded. "I think so."

"He was created to replace Kuja. He was... Garland's masterpiece, I suppose you could say. Garland needed him to be as perfect as was within his ability to create." Mikoto pointed a finger at Garnet. "That's something important to understand, and why, perhaps, Garland's plans to assimilate Terra failed. The Genomes were – are – far from perfect, even Zidane, who was designed from scratch to _be_ perfect. Garland wasn't a god and though Terra's technology far exceeds Gaia's, the feat to create a perfect being was something he could never master, even with a hundred years experience and trial and error.

"Don't misunderstand though," she went on. "Zidane is _close_ to perfect physically, but Garland found he simply couldn't shape the soul he attached to the body." She shrugged. "You only need to look at Kuja to understand that, never mind Zidane.

"Anyway," she said, "Zidane's genetic makeup is different from a regular Genome, Kuja and I included, because Garland worked on him from scratch, where as we were ordinary vessels injected with souls. As I said, he strove for perfection. He took risks in that respect as there could be only trial this time, no error." Mikoto paused, cerulean eyes considering the ceiling thoughtfully. "When I... when I first saw Zidane I couldn't believe that this was what Garland considered perfection. I expected something less... unruly."

Garnet might have smiled, but the humour fell flat. She clutched her tea to warm her hands, if nothing else, as another shiver crept down her spine.

"Anyway," Mikoto continued, "Garland couldn't afford another failure like Kuja. Wary, he stripped Zidane's genetics of the ability to wield magic akin to Kuja's, because Garland was beginning to foresee Kuja as a potential threat – and obviously in the end he took no chances, severing Kuja's life with a limit. Garland presumed that physical strength alone would not topple him, so he focussed on building Zidane's physical power instead. In fact, Garland erased a lot of what he considered to be superfluous assets in Zidane's makeup that he knew wouldn't affect Zidane's overall performance. All Genomes are designed to function like humans so the Terrans who finally inhabit them can lead the lives they remember... Anyway, I'm digressing.

"Because Garland had grown wary over his first failure at creating an angel of death, he decided not to take too many risks with Zidane, deeming creating his genetics from scratch a big enough gamble. So, he designed Zidane to have a backup system in case the original failed."

"System?" Garnet repeated with a disapproving frown. "Zidane isn't a _machine_."

Mikoto cocked her head. "Really? But aren't we all programmed to do things from birth, to a certain extent? The basic instincts that make us function: breathing, walking, talking, excreting, mating. It's survival instinct. Because Genomes are created individually from nothing, Garland discovered ways to twist and manipulate the basic genetic structure to create his own programmes... his own customised instincts. Does that make sense?"

Garnet blinked, her brain racing to keep up with ideas and technology that was far, far beyond anything on Gaia. "I... think so..."

Indifferent to whether she truly understood or not, Mikoto ploughed ahead. "As I was saying, Garland programmed a backup system into Zidane's genetics that would activate two years after he came of age, if Terra wasn't assimilated by then. This programme is designed to wipe clean any data Zidane has obtained since his creation. Once any superfluous assets are stripped away all that's left is the basic instinct Garland meticulously programmed into him: the need to destroy."

Garnet stared with wide eyed disbelief at the girl opposite. Perhaps it was only her deep rooted nobility that held her together now, because she could have sworn she was unravelling like a ball of yarn. "Buh-but I... he isn't... I mean I... th-there isn't anything we can do...? That's it?"

Mikoto rolled her eyes and sighed impatiently, a heartbeat away from calling her silly. "Of _course_ not. Do you think you'd be alive if the programme had worked?"

"I, um..."

"Garland made the same mistake twice. He might have been incomprehensibly brilliant at creating the basic shell life requires, but he could never grasp the concept of a soul. He didn't understand that no matter which soul he picks – whether it's strong, submissive or clever – they will always change and develop, affected by the environment in which they live."

Garnet stared at her. "...You figured this out... and Garland didn't?"

Mikoto's eyes darted to the window, where the shutters were drawn tight against the rain still beating an insistent taboo outside. "It's... from being here. I've been studying the Black Mages, trying to understand the way they independently acquire souls..." She trailed off, then shook her head. "But that's irrelevant in regards to Zidane's condition... though... I find it somewhat ironic that if I hadn't come to Gaia I would never have understood why this has happened to him..."

"_What's_ happened to him?" Garnet stressed, suddenly tired beyond belief and pushed into exasperation because of it. "You're telling me that when he turned, what, eighteen? This programme switched on and he became... or was meant to become... the angel that Garland desired? So why didn't that happen? Why is he... why is like _this_?" She gestured angrily at the subject in question, deadly still in the middle of the living space, still dripping rain onto the floor.

"Can't you figure that out?" Nothing haughty in her tone, just impatient disbelief. "It's because of his _soul_. Garland thought he could erase the memories and personality of his Genome, but that resides in the soul, something that is as separate to the body as it is part of it." Mikoto shrugged. "Either way, Garland badly misjudged the strength a soul can possess, therefore Zidane has managed to fight against this programme... to a certain extent."

"It hasn't worked then?" Garnet said.

"I didn't say that," Mikoto corrected coarsely. "It's just taking longer than Garland intended, but don't be fooled: it _is_ working. Zidane would have experienced various side effects as a result of many redundant functions being stripped away, beginning, I would imagine, with physical effects that would hinder his ability to destroy, such as eating, sleeping –"

"_Sleeping_," Garnet gasped. Suddenly Doctor Tot's inquiry made sense, alongside Zidane's unnaturally deep sleeps; he'd been prescribed a sleeping drug. "Gods."

"Better that than having one's personality stripped away, surely?" Mikoto asked, and for a moment it didn't sound rhetoric, but when Garnet didn't answer she continued. "As this programme began to take hold Zidane would have experienced heightened senses and unconsciously accessed operations he would not have been able to before, such as the telepathy between Genomes I mentioned earlier, and a greater understanding of his genetic makeup and Terran functions, something all Genomes possess knowledge of. Call it part of the installation package."

Garnet couldn't tell if that was Mikoto's attempt at a joke, then decided Mikoto probably never joked, so chose not comment. "But I still don't understand why he's... how he is now."

"I'm getting to that," Mikoto remarked primly. "As the programme began to truly take hold Zidane probably gained some knowledge of it and, as I mentioned, of the way his genetics worked. For one reason or another, Zidane managed to access the core Garland custom built and shut himself down."

Garnet frowned opened mouthed at her, attempting to process this. "Shut himself... down?"

Mikoto was unfazed by this prospect. "Think of it as a failsafe. Machines often shut themselves down in order to protect themselves. The production capsules in Terra's laboratory used to do the sa -"

"Zidane is _not_ a machine," Garnet grated.

Mikoto waved a hand. "I won't argue the particulars. The point is, whether it was the result of blind panic or intentional, he managed to shut down enough of his vitals to prevent the programme from consuming him completely." She gestured at her older brother. "This is the result. He's now a regular Genome."


	26. Processing

Ahh, I'm so sorry for taking so loonngg! I hope y'all haven't forgotten about me! I'm gonna try my best to keep the ball rolling, I promise. Thank you for being so patient! Also, let it be known that I have NO FREAKIN' CLUE how Black Mages are made. Or Genomes for that matter. Sooo… yeah. Enjoy!

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**Chapter Twenty-Five**  
Processing

1.

The morning offered only the briefest of respites before the heavens opened again and shunned the promise of a sunny day. The clouds weren't so burdened though; the rain came in sporadic showers that left the air grey but fresh and thick with the scent of pine.

A voice had pulled Garnet out of a sleep too short and tumultuous to be called restful, less than an hour ago. She'd been having an unsettling dream anyway, too surreal to be organised for analysis, and even if she'd wanted to it vanished almost as soon as her bleary, disorientated vision registered the person standing over her.

"Zidane?"

She'd blinked again then shot upright so fast her head span. Only then, with the light of an early day throwing ethereal curtains through the windows of Mikoto's home, did she realise her mistake, and recoiled.

"Oh… sorry," she'd apologised to the Genome standing beside her bed. "I thought… I thought you were… Ahm, nevermind…"

The Genome offered her a mild stare and relayed a message from Mikoto, which all but ordered her out of bed. Upon learning that Mikoto had begun working on Zidane's condition without notifying her rattled Garnet into a sour mood. She forgot completely about breakfast and pulled on her stiff, dry pilot's attire from the previous night and one of Mikoto's ponchos on top of that, to ward off the chill.

Now the Genome was leading her along a well-worn path outside the Black Mage Village, apparently unconcerned by the prospect of being attacked. Any questions Garnet threw his way regarding Steiner, Blank and Zidane were ignored, so she resigned herself to brooding silence.

The path they took weaved between thickets of pine tree that grew so close together their branches interlocked overhead, letting through such little light that the woodland floor was bare of life. Eventually, the consistency of the larger flora thinned and thick, knee high brush rose eagerly from fertile turf instead, soaking Garnet's pants with their rain-slick leaves. Yet this went largely unnoticed to the queen, as there was something much more noticeable to consider.

Absently, she muttered, "So that's where it went…"

There was a clearing in the woodland ahead, possibly unnatural, and here was where the ground flora flourished. However, it was largely flattened by a less natural commodity that loomed like a slumbering beast in its cradle, the tip of its smooth surface rivalling even the tallest of trees.

The Invincible.

"She is in there," the Genome told her, and he pointed to one of many entrances/exits.

"Thank you," Garnet barely heard herself acknowledge before she approached the ship with some trepidation. Of all the transport Garnet had been on the Invincible was the most aweing, and her least favourite. However, it looked like it had been out of commission for some time; vines were beginning to creep up its hull and owls had nested in the alcoves of its exterior. It clearly hadn't taken flight for some time. But why would Mikoto bring her here?

Despite being grounded, it was fully functional, because Garnet was teleported up from beneath its hull. She fought off the sickness that accompanied the process of being broken apart into something implausible, though her empty stomach still attempted several handstands. Once she'd recovered she found herself in the familiar interior of an alien ship. The red eye of the Invincible still glowed behind her, humming a mechanical tune and tinting her skin with ghoulish highlights. That much remained unchanged, but when she walked into the cockpit the alterations were so great she felt quite disorientated, and the reason behind the Invincible's immobility became apparent.

The cockpit had been transformed into a makeshift laboratory. There were alien machines choked with Gaia's cogs and gears and crudely assembled production lines that trundled in circles; a fusion of foreign and familiar technology that ending up looking a little absurd. All were assembled around the cockpit and the vast, rain streaked window at the front revealed the forest outside, lending a peculiar backdrop to the mechanical genius within.

"Run while you still can," a voice hissed in her ear, making her jump.

She turned around and Blank was there, his arms full with an assortment of ambiguous tools. He looked harried and nervous.

"What are you doing?" Garnet asked.

Blank's eyes darted round, then he leaned forward. "She's a fucking slave driver, that girl. She woke me up at the crack of dawn _– the crack of dawn_ – and got me workin' on all these chores. Like, what has this even got to do with me? She's been on my ass _all morning_."

"She woke you up but not me?" Garnet seethed, hands planted on her hips.

"Think yourself lucky," Blank said, missing the point. "Even Boss doesn't work me this hard. He -"

"Blank?" a voice called sedately from the cockpit's (laboratory's?) doorway. "I thought I asked you to take that to the storage room?"

Blank cringed and threw Mikoto an impatient look. "Give me a chance, woman! Don't I get a fucking coffee break or something?"

Mikoto stared at him levelly until Blank sighed and stomped past her, muttering angrily. Once he was gone, Mikoto turned her attention to Garnet, who was fighting down a morning's worth of irritation.

"You could have woken me," she snapped, then because she was in no mood for an argument she continued, "Where's Zidane?"

"Over here, of course," Mikoto said, breezing past her. "You must understand this is largely experimental. And inconvenient. I had to postpone my current project to accommodate him, and due to its delicate nature I'll have to start again once he's been removed."

"Zidane didn't _intend_ to get ill," Garnet gritted. "I don't know what you're talking about, anyway."

Mikoto stepped over a pipe larger than a man's thigh then around an unusual structure. She pointed at it and said, "He's currently accommodating the only Production Capsule on Gaia. Like I said, it's very inconvenient, but I decided it would be easier to monitor his restoration like this."

Garnet hurriedly joined her and gawped.

The structure was tall and concave like a fish bowl, with a similar purpose. Inside, Zidane was suspended in a gel like substance, hooked up to numerous wires like a puppet on strings. His eyes were closed.

"He'll drown!" Garnet bleated, and Mikoto's scoff was all the reassurance she received.

"I managed to scrounge together enough materials from various locations on Gaia, including Kuja's desert palace – trust _him_ to build something so offensively superfluous – to construct _one_ capsule, and even then substantial adjustments had to be made… especially considering the original blueprints Garland designed burnt with Terra…" She paused, as if allowing Garnet to acknowledge her feat, but the queen had her hands pressed against the glass, her concern entirely directed at Zidane.

"What's going to happen?" she asked. "What are you doing to him?"

"Rebooting him," Mikoto said, but Garnet didn't understand so she elaborated. "I'm restoring him to his physical former self. At the moment he's… shut down."

Garnet was unpleasantly reminded of the factory in Dali and the lifeless dolls hanging from hooks on a conveyor belt like slaughtered animals at a butcher's. It made her stomach knot and she was suddenly glad she'd skipped breakfast.

"The capsule is currently keeping him alive," Mikoto explained. "Inside there, he won't starve to death or succumb to exposure, plus I can monitor his brain activity and rebuild his system in a cleaner, controlled environment."

"You'll be able to wake him up?" Garnet attempted to translate.

Mikoto paused, eyes briefly skirting the cockpit, before she replied, "Yes."

Garnet didn't miss the hesitation. "But?"

She shrugged evasively. "There's no guarantees but I think I can get him functioning again. I oversaw the entire growth and production process on Terra, even if Garland was the brains behind the initial creation, but I think I can recreate and improve upon even that…" She shook her head. "Anyway, I think I can get him working again and erase any mental conditioning Garland installed, but I can't say the same for… for his memories."

Garnet threw her an alarmed look. "His… His memories? But… But that's what makes him… _him_! It's his personality, his soul, everything!"

Mikoto shrugged again and offered no words of comfort. "We'll see."

2.

The days trudged on. Garnet maintained a vigilant guard beside Zidane's capsule. Her presence appeared to bother Mikoto but even she didn't have the heart to send her away, unless it was on some important errand, though those were mostly left to Blank and Steiner. Mikoto offered no reassurances but regularly updated Garnet on Zidane's condition, which was apparently looking favourable.

It also seemed that Garnet had severely misjudged Mikoto, who worked tirelessly. She ate what Garnet brought from her house with a great show of irritation, munching whole slabs of buttered bread in a few, un-ladylike bites while her hands were busy, always busy, fiddling with the technology that sprouted in profusion from every sleek edifice of the ship; Mikoto took multi-tasking to a new level. She often slept strewn across her work in intervals so short Garnet worried for her health.

But her time was not entirely consumed with Zidane's wellbeing. In fact, she spent very little time overseeing her brother's recovery, checking his vitals a few times a day and making ambiguous adjustments to the various tubes inserted within his skin. She seemed distracted by various other projects, one of which she was largely evasive of, though Garnet managed to deduce it was something to do with the Genomes. The other was no secret and took up most of her time, and was also Garnet's only enjoyable way of passing her own time when it was not spent at Zidane's side.

3.

"It moved!" Garnet yelled over her shoulder. "This is it, I'm sure, it's coming out today!"

She heard Mikoto huff impatiently from across the cockpit, where she was perched atop a contraption so tall her head touched the ceiling. Nonetheless, Mikoto nimbly descended to floor level (leaving Garnet wondering if Zidane's monkey-like agility was a feature present in all the Genomes) and approached the queen, wiping her oil-steaked hands on the front of her dress.

"This one," Garnet indicated.

Mikoto appraised it for a split second and said, "No. It's not ready. A few more days."

Garnet's hopes sunk and she rested her chin on the edge of the incubator, eyes staring imploringly at the five eggs inside.

This was how Black Mages were made. It was a new method that combined Kuja's techniques with Terran technology; the project had stemmed from Vivi's desire to see his race continue after Kuja's demise, and Mikoto's intellect. She seemed passionless about it (though it was so hard to tell with Mikoto) but Garnet knew Vivi had that effect on people. Not even Zidane had been able to say no to him at the best of times.

Vivi had allowed Mikoto to conduct a number of experiments on Mages who had Stopped, though this had to be done in secret for fear of upsetting the others, who were surprisingly more sensitive than Vivi, and who might have been happy to allow their race to pass away, not out of laziness but because they were happy to accept life as it was rather than seek out answers to questions they didn't understand.

It had taken some time, but Mikoto made the discovery that it was not Mist that gave the Mages life. The mages were similar to Genomes in the sense that they were living organisms produced from DNA (when Garnet requested an explanation on DNA, of which she'd never heard, Mikoto threw her a wide eyed look and simply shook her head), albeit substantially less advanced, but the concept behind their basic shell was the same as the Genomes, which led Mikoto to believe the Black Mage army had been directly inspired by the Genome Project. Mikoto also discovered that the Mist itself was the origin of their infamous powers. Now, with the Mist gone, the new generation of Mages were without magic. Garnet thought this to be a blessing in disguise. The atrocities previously committed using black magic could never be repeated, nor would anyone wish to manipulate the naive mages again for the purpose of war, though as a magic user herself she somewhat lamented the idea of any breed of magic becoming extinct over time, and wondered what other consequences the Mist's absence would have on Gaia.

Upon Vivi's wishes, Mikoto set up a small laboratory for the sole purpose of creating Mages. Garnet couldn't begin to understand how it was possible, though Mikoto simply told her it was 'much simpler' than creating a Genome. They started out in the Production Capsule as embryos, then were implanted into eggs like she'd seen in Dali, where they grew until they hatched like birds. Mikoto expressed that the egg procedure was 'unnecessary' and 'bothersome' but due to the lack of Production Capsules there was no alternative. Secretly, Garnet was pleased, because the thought of mini-Vivi's hatching out eggs was simply adorable, even if she had yet to witness it.

The egg she was fixated on wriggled and her heart leapt. She almost called out to Mikoto again but decided against it and waited patiently for any signs of cracking.

As she sat watching, Garnet attempted to hassle an answer out of her sister-in-law regarding a past interest. "Mikoto?"

"Mmm?"

"What's the other project you're working on?"

"It's got nothing to do with you," Mikoto told her.

Garnet brushed off her tone easily. Garnet no longer took offense to her brusque mannerisms. She had learned that the girl did not mean things as rudely as she worded them, she was just uninformed about the level of courtesy required when addressing others. Garnet was still confused by the meaning behind her answer though, wondering if it was a literal statement or Mikoto's way of saying 'Mind your own business'. Hoping for the former, she pushed a little further.

"I'm just curious. Is it important?"

"I suppose it is."

"Do _you_ think it's important?"

She paused. "No. N- Yes. I… guess it is. I suppose." She volunteered, "It's to do with the Genomes."

Though she was being entirely selfish, Garnet couldn't bear to hear anything else negative that might be related to Zidane, so she voiced her concern.

Not looking from the machine she was tinkering with, Mikoto shook her head. "No."

"Then what's wrong?"

For the first time since they began talking, Mikoto's hands ceased their constant activity and she sat awkwardly still, eyes fixed on the machine as she deliberated whether to open up to Garnet – to anyone, in fact. Uncomfortably, she said, "After Terra was destroyed I didn't see the point in anything, the point in my – or the Genomes' – existence. We were created for a single purpose, and that purpose vanished with Terra. I didn't even see the point in leaving Terra, I would have gladly died there and then… but Zidane – " She glanced over to her inert brother, but didn't elaborate. She went on, "Vivi used to say that Genomes would one day develop souls too, just like the Mages, but I discovered that that just isn't possible. They're not made that way. They are vessels. They must be _given_ souls." Her lips twitched briefly into a wry smirk. "That's the only way Kuja outsmarted Garland's design, even if it was unintentional. His dolls actually created souls themselves after some time had passed. Maybe Garland could have made the Genomes that way too, but that would have been somewhat impractical considering their purpose.

"Anyway, when Vivi asked me to help him make more Mages in a sustainable way, I argued with him and initially declined. I… didn't understand why he wanted to keep creating something without purpose and it's why I…" Here she paused for a long time, and Garnet kept quiet, allowing the introverted girl to find the words that usually came so naturally to her.

"That's why I refused to continue the Genome line, as well," she haltingly admitted. "I didn't see the point. I was willing to let my race die out… But Vivi taught me a lot and showed me that… that it _is_ worth it. It will be worth the effort, in the end." She gestured vaguely around the cockpit. "So if I use some of Kuja's modifications on Garland's original design, I might be able to create a new, improved batch of Genomes. See, the new collections of Mages are born with souls. I'm thinking that maybe… maybe the new line of Genomes could be born with them too." She sighed grumpily to cover up any suggestion that she might be soft under her hard shell, and went back to altering the machine.

Garnet fiddled with the ends of her hair, head cocked thoughtfully as she contemplated the ceiling. She wondered what defined a soul anyway, for though the Genomes lacked personality they possessed a flat kind of curiosity that drove them to ask questions and try new things, even experience alarm. At length, another thought came to her and she asked with a sense of foreboding, "If you don't find it impolite of me to ask… Can't the Genomes reproduce the… natural way?"

Mikoto was unbothered by the nature of the question. "Yes, for the sake of the Terran souls that would have inhabited them. But without a soul the Genomes lack the drive to procreate. They possess a dull version of survival instinct but won't act independently and I don't… " She paused, either momentarily embarrassed or simply looking for the right wording. "I don't want to… I don't think they'd…" She left it hanging and just shrugged it off with a simple, "I think it would be better to do it this way."

Garnet nodded sagely then had a sudden vision of miniature Genomes running riot around the village, all flaxen haired and stubby-tailed with eyes blue enough to shun a summer's sky. In a moment quite uncharacteristic to the young, busy queen she let out a sigh and said, "Urgh, I think I'm getting broody."

"What?" Mikoto said, frowning, and looked like she was about to say something, but then her eyes were drawn behind Garnet and she said, "What on Terra…?"

Garnet spun round just in time to watch the first broken segment of shell tumble to the base of the incubator. She shrieked in glee and clasped her hands beneath her chin, watching the egg that was now a map of cracks tremble and shudder. A few more pieces were pushed outward and she yelled again and leaned forward to help the little mage out of its prison by picking off a few loose parts. After a moment, the darkness inside shifted like clouds over a night's sky and two tiny beacons of light squinted up at her. The new born mage bleated sweetly. Garnet continued helping it from its shell, while Mikoto simply rolled her eyes and said, "Why is everything on this planet so unpredictable?"

3.

The new and early arrival of a Black Mage had the village in an uproar. Not even the wisest of mages understood the technologies behind birthing a baby mage so the entire community greeted the news with a joy that bordered on hysteria. Everything came to a halt and every mage (and the odd curious Genome) gathered around the base of the Invincible awaiting Mikoto to present the new arrival. The presenter in question approached this jubilant ritual with the same enthusiasm one would approach washing dishes, even though it was her handiwork that had birthed the baby in the first place. Consequently, she didn't mind when Garnet asked if she could carry the baby out to show everyone instead, saying it would lend her more time to work.

The baby in question had the gross muscular of a three year-old, despite being born just an hour previously, which Mikoto insisted was necessary to avoid complications and to increase its chances of survival. Garland had also dictated what aged body the Genomes would possess for the same reasons, and because raising children was troublesome when you're trying to take over the world. However, unlike the Genomes, limited information had been installed into the mage as the being was with soul and would learn things naturally, which was also something Vivi requested of Mikoto (and while this baffled her it meant a lot less work on her behalf so she didn't object.)

Now the baby (or toddler, Garnet supposed) was dressed in Black Mage clothing specifically tailored for the smaller variety – hat and all – and was clinging to her neck like a baby monkey, blinking round in fright and awe. On the way out, Garnet paused to introduce the mage to Zidane, though the baby seemed more interested in the flashing lights on the panel beside him than the inert Genome within, and of course Zidane did not acknowledge him. Garnet then boarded a teleportation pad and was transported outside, where a rabble of onlookers eagerly awaited the new arrival.

"Ah, there he is!"

"How do you know it's a he?"

"Look at his little hands!"

"I made that hat!"

"He's looking right at me, see? He likes me!"

"His eyes are so cute and his feet are so tiny!"

"He's looks like me, he definitely takes after me!"

"What shall we name him?"

"He was early so… Mr 3?"

"We can't give everyone numbers, silly. Besides there must have been a Mr 3 already because I'm Mr 56!"

"Let's just call him Early."

"No!"

"That's so silly!"

"Let's ask the nice lady."

"Yes!"

"What would you call him, lady?"

Garnet took a surprised step back, all but put on the spot by a sea of large, eager, amber eyes as the crowd fell silent in anticipation. She cleared her throat awkwardly and looked at the new arrival in her arms, who was staring wide-eyed at the trees above. She eventually said, "Well…. If you want the name to be something to do with being early… why not… why not name him Robin, because the Robin is the… the first bird to sing in the morning…?"

It was fair to say the mage community was overwhelmed by the originality of this name as prior to Garnet's apparent talent for naming people they'd only ever thought of numbers. Robin was then removed from her care and taken to the village where, she'd been informed, a grand party would be held in his honour. Garnet followed, curious about the nature of this party and how the baby would react to its first few hours of life.

When the weight of the child was removed from her arms she was struck again by what she could only presume to be maternal instinct. She turned back to behold the Invincible and sent a prayer to the Eidolons that Zidane would awaken safely.

She didn't notice Mikoto watching her from the cockpit, an anxious frown creasing her brow.


	27. One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

Hey guys! Sorry about the slow updates. This fic was put on the backburner while I sorted other stuff. I haven't given up on this though, it's my baby. 'Scuse me if this chapter's a bit disjointed – takes a while for me to get back into the swing of things. And genomes are so hard to write. Hope you haven't lost interest! It'll be coming to a close within the next five or six chapters, I think.

Ugh, and PLEASE clear something up for me. Does genome have a capital G? And does mages have a capital M? I'm guessing they should be lower case as you don't normally write species with a capital. If that's the case, then I apologise for the inconsistency throughout this fic. Yaygrammar.

Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Six**  
One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

i.

On the day the rainy weather finally broke, Garnet half hoped it would spell the end of Zidane's recovery inside the Production Capsule, but all it brought was bad news.

Garnet had sought refuge on a sun soaked porch that jutted over the village's stream. She wore the garb of a female genome; a simple dress made of some silken alien material, its whiteness broken by patches of pink that didn't suit her complexion at all, though she wasn't about to protest as her company couldn't have given two figs about fashion.

Robin was squatting on the lip of the porch with a fishing rod in hand. It was a crude thing constructed by Garnet from a stick and ball yarn. It wasn't functional (it didn't even have a hook or reel) but had provided amusement for the mage who tried his best to catch the fish basking near the surface. The toddler reared back and executed a charming parody of casting the line, where it promptly became tangled in the reeds below.

"Stuck!" Robin bleated over his shoulder.

Well versed in this ritual, Garnet leaned over the edge and tugged the yarn free, where it trailed into the stream. "There."

"Catchin' fish," Robin informed her matter-of-factly.

Garnet crossed her legs and returned her attention to the letter she'd received earlier that morning via mognet. It was from Beatrix and its purpose was entirely business. A queen was never free of title or duty afterall, and her prolonged stay at the Black Mage Village had resulted in a backlog of appointments and paperwork that she was not looking forward to confronting once this ordeal was through.

Though Beatrix was sympathetic to the cause of Garnet's absence, she'd sent Garnet some of the most important paperwork to ease this backlog. It was merely a case of agreeing to this and disagreeing to that, signing her name here, here and here, but it was hard to concentrate on the finer points and all too often Garnet's mind drifted away while her hand continued to robotically sign. Beatrix had also requested that Steiner be dismissed from his post as her bodyguard for the time being, as the General was struggling to maintain an army and keep an eye on the court and nobility simultaneously. Garnet had ordered him back and he'd agreed with a great show of reluctance that had more to do with worrying about his queen's disposition rather than her safety.

Every day the strain of being away from her kingdom began to stretch the seams of her patience. She felt helpless, vulnerable. She couldn't sleep, couldn't eat. She wished Zidane a speedy recovery but could do nothing to aid Mikoto's efforts.

In light of this, she recalled a time when she was nine years old. It was night time in Alexandria Castle. She was creeping down the corridors, well past curfew, to climb into bed between her mother and father. She could remember the feel of the fur rug between her toes as she lingered on the outskirts of the queen's chamber, peering cautiously around a gauzy curtain at her mother, who was sobbing on the edge of the bed.

"Mother?"

Queen Brahne has startled somewhat and had attempted to hide her puffy, red eyes from the onlooker, then remembered who she was hiding from and took her daughter into her arms. Garnet recalled clearly the tears dripping into her hair, and her mother saying: "Though this may seem a heartless thing to say, my dearest, I speak from experience when I tell you not to marry the one you love, because a queen can only have one true lover, and that is the throne."

As a young princess, Garnet had inevitably dreamed of wedding her Prince Charming, but as she became older she accepted that her consort would be one of political advantage, and her contracted engagement to Dimitri had long been arranged by then anyway.

Only now, with a true appreciation of love and responsibility, did she understand her mother's words, even though her mother had not followed the advice. Like Garnet, she fought through the political and emotional hardships until the death of Garnet's father, and succeeded. Garnet was determined to do the same, even if it meant that her kingdom had to suffer for a short time.

"Queenie!"

The familiar hail jarred her from her reverie and she looked up in time to catch Blank skidding full pelt around the corner, his usually calm exterior looking harried.

"Yes?" she said, her practiced tenor in sharp contrast to the flare of fierce panic.

"Mikoto's woken Zidane up!" Blank blurted, running a hand through his ruffled hair. "Now, he's awake now!"

Garnet stood up sharply, scattering important documents that whirled into the stream. They might have gone unnoticed if not for Robin, who decided to made a head long dive after them while squealing 'Birdies!'. Already several bounds away Garnet shrieked in alarm and turned a frantic three sixty. She threw herself into the stream and sank to her chin. She coughed up a mouthful of icy water and grappled with the bed blindly, eyes braced shut against the current, until she grabbed a fistful of coat.

The baby came up giggling with a fish in his hand.

"What a fuckin' circus," Blank grumbled as he reached down to pluck the mage from her arms. He plopped the baby onto the porch then went to offer Garnet a hand, but when he looked down she was gone, sprinting across the bridge toward the forest.

ii.

Garnet wasn't slowing down for anyone; her previously torn mind was now fixated on a single subject. However, her wet feet offered no grip on the smooth floor of the Invincible's interior and she slipped across the polished surface as gracelessly as a pig through mud. She was on her back before she knew what was happening, blinking the stars away as the beginning of a headache prodded her temple.

Abruptly, the stars gave way to Mikoto's face.

"What are you doing?"

If she had been Zidane, she might have thought up some sarcastic quip, but nature failed her so she offered a lame explanation instead. "I slipped."

Mikoto's face disappeared, not even bothering to offer a hand, so Garnet climbed unsteadily to her feet.

"Zidane," she gasped out. "Blank said he was… that you had…"

"Restored his system?" Mikoto supplied blandly. She offered a cursory glance over her shoulder before disappearing around the side of the Production Capsule. "Yes, I have."

Garnet jogged after her, ranting, "Why in the gods' names didn't you think to tell me? Why am I the last person to know about these things? I swear, the bloody chocobo gets informed before I do!"

She rounded the capsule and frowned. It stood empty. The wires hung down like vines in a jungle, dripping thick goo onto the capsule's base. Garnet swung round wildly. "Where is he?"

Much to her chagrin, Mikoto was idly tinkering with a machine. "Hmm? Oh he… Why are you wet?"

"I fell in the – that doesn't matter! _Where is Zidane_?"

Mikoto gestured vaguely. "He went out. He was fully functional. I performed a series of tests to determine the efficiency of his system and it exceeded my expectations. He –"

"You let him wander out of here in his condition?" Garnet yelled. "He's probably confused! He could have… could have waited for me…" she ended miserably. "I'm going to find him. Did he say where he was going?"

Mikoto shook her head, eyes fixed on the machine she was working on. Garnet hesitated a moment as she watched her try to turn a bolt that was already tight, then she shook her head. There was no time for this! She'd deal with Mikoto later.

She hurried towards the exit – almost slipping again on the puddle her hair had created – and out via a teleportation pad. Standing amid the vast flora and the even vaster forest, her mind flashed with bright panic. He could be anywhere. He could be unstable. He could be in danger. Where should she start looking?

She yelled in frustration, subconsciously summoning a Cure to ease the pain of the impending headache, and took off down a path barefoot. The village was the best place to start looking, if any.

iii.

The mages misinterpreted the gravity of the situation, thinking his ejection from the Production Capsule to be an occasion for celebration. They were right in part, but Garnet could have done without their jubilant attitude until she'd evaluated Zidane's condition herself. That said, she probably wouldn't have found him without the mages' help. They knew the forest and the village far better than the visiting Alexandrians and were quick to locate the missing Genome.

They found him standing by the lake. This revelation jarred Garnet's heartbeat.

Though the genomes possessed basic emotion and survival instinct, and were certainly intelligent, their habits and mannerisms left a lot to be desired. Vivi had described it as 'their minds being out for lunch' while Blank had eloquently coined them as 'pretty fucked up'. Garnet was inclined to agree to a certain extent. The Genomes had coped with the sudden move to a lively planet, but they were prone to gravitate towards places that reminded them of Terra, or places that best catered for their programmed functions. In this case, they were naturally – perhaps even compulsively – drawn to the lake.

The lake was a beautiful break in the forest, fed by a natural spring that weaved its way underground and began at the cliffs that surround the forest. It must have been three hundred feet across, was rimmed by reeds and home to a commodity of animals. Monsters had roamed this area freely once, but the mages had used their magic to create a barrier around the lake's premises once the genomes' penchant to stare at the thing became apparent (along with their inability to fight off an attack).

In the sun, the lake shone a brilliant blue, and so the genomes drew towards it, tugged by some innate function doubtlessly installed by their dead master. Or perhaps it was simply nostalgia. At any rate, to know Zidane had chosen to follow the masses was an unsettling thought, though Garnet tried to brush it aside. The lake was beautiful and peaceful. Perhaps he had gone there to clear his head.

Garnet entered the clearing that hailed the lake and shuddered as the unseen force field created by the mages had her senses prickling. Blank approached her wordlessly and stopped as she did, both of them scanning the landscape. A scattering of genomes stood around the lake, staring silently at its still, blue surface. They resembled the statues in the Castle gardens, the illusion broken only by the steady swing of their tails.

Garnet felt a surge of panic when she couldn't immediately tell him from his kin, then remembered her was dressed as one them now, courtesy to Mikoto. She approached the lake with Blank and a gathering of excited mages. The genomes turned to watch the gathering indifferently.

"Where is he?" Garnet asked, unable to fight the tremor in her voice. "Isn't he here anymore?"

Mr 93 pointed across the lake. "Yes, he is! He's there, see?"

Garnet batted away her anger and disappointment. Why couldn't she tell him apart? He was her love. She didn't need someone else to point it out….

But apparently she did, because even when she followed the finger of Mr 93 to a single genome that stood separate from its brethren, she still couldn't recognise him as Zidane until she drew closer at an eager run. The mages followed, whooping in glee, but Blank stopped short and held them back too, his expression grim.

iv.

Garnet tackled Zidane with a hug that almost knocked him off his feet. For the moment, the joy of seeing him walking and moving and _living_ overwhelmed the need to assess his state of mind. She clung to him silently, arms linked around his neck, face buried against his shoulder.

She spent that blissful moment shamelessly wallowing in ignorance, because she knew something was wrong, and when she pulled away that moment would be broken and all that would remain was the cold truth, like a rotten nut inside its shell.

It was Zidane who broke the contact. He disengaged her arms firmly but not aggressively, and took a step back to look at her. Reluctantly, she met his gaze, confirming what she already knew.

Zidane wasn't Zidane anymore. He looked the same – healthier even – but his face was expressionless. His brilliant blue eyes were empty. Gone was the flirtatious, cocksure smirk. Gone was the adventurous twinkle behind his eye. He was simply a genome now.

"Zidane…" she breathed, all the sorrow and despair exuded in that one word, so it was all she could do not to drop to her knees and burst into tears.

Zidane cocked his head, brow creased ever so slightly in a manner that was so very much unlike Zidane. "Yes, I have been informed that is my name."

Garnet tentatively took his hand. "Zidane, do you remember who I am?"

"No." Stated blandly, indifferently.

"Do you… remember anything? About me? Tantalus? …Kuja?"

Zidane blanched slightly, the frown line growing, but he shook his head and in a fashion bordering on irritable, he shook away her hand.

"Do you know who you are?" Garnet pressed desperately, taking a step forward to close the physical gap between them, though it felt as if it was bridgeless canyon, growing by the second.

"I am…" He took a step away from her. "I am Garland's vessel, even though Terra no longer exists, or so I am told." His expression became one of doubt for an instant as his gaze touched the lake beyond. "Now I'm not sure who I am…"

Garnet couldn't help herself; she reached out and brushed a sun-bleached bang from his cheek. His eyes fixed on her again, cold stones that she could no longer read.

"Come with me," she said. "I am… I am your wife and I want to be with you…"

He didn't hesitate or refuse; he treated it as a command to be followed rather than a request, though when she took his hand he tugged it away like a naughty child trying to escape its mother.

Blank maintained a respectable distance and had apparently dismissed the lingering mages.

She returned to the Invincible only to find Mikoto gone, and after a few answers from nearby mages she deduced the girl had gone home. This was somewhat unusual as Mikoto frequently slept across her work aboard the Invincible and ate sparingly, plus it was only late afternoon. Nonetheless, Garnet coaxed Zidane to follow her again as she weaved down various paths toward the outskirts of the village.

Smoke spiralled thinly from the chimney of Mikoto's house. The windows were thrown wide to let in the sunshine and from them came the smell of cooking. It was a pretty picture, but Garnet couldn't have cared less as she threw the front door aside and stormed in unannounced.

Mikoto was hovering over the stove, throwing herbs and oil into a pan. There was a pile of feathers freshly plucked from a dead owl at her side, though these fluttered to the floor as the wind from the brusquely opened door caught them in its hand.

"Careful!" Mikoto barked, momentarily putting aside her cooking to reach down and scoop the feathers into a canvas bag. "Look what you've done; they've gone everywhere! I'm going to use these to stuff cushions –"

"Mikoto!" Garnet barked. She slammed her hands upon the dining table, eyes fixed on the younger girl. "You've got some explaining to do."

Mikoto dumped the bag of feathers in a corner and wiped her hands on a dishcloth, idly humming, "Do I?"

Garnet pointed a finger at Zidane, who watched the interaction with detached curiosity. "I didn't want him… back like this! He's just… just a vessel now. He doesn't have any memories, any personality!"

"Now, that's rather harsh," Mikoto chided without any trace of resentfulness. "Genomes do have _some_ personality."

Garnet smacked her palm against the table again. "That's not what I mean! He's not _Zidane_ anymore! He's lost _everything_!"

"Not everything," Mikoto corrected, waving a spatula in her direction though not looking up from frying bird meat. "He's retained his strength, intelligence, health. He's alive, isn't he?"

Garnet glared the table. "Yes… yes I know… and I'm grateful –"

"You don't _sound_ very grateful," Mikoto retorted, the first sign anger creeping into to her tone. "Barging in here like I haven't spent days rewriting and restoring his system, saving his life and sacrificing my own arguably more important projects to tend to your demands."

Garnet sobered, and Blank placed a hand on her shoulder.

She sighed. "I… I'm sorry. I just don't understand why this had to happen. I'm confused and… and I'm upset."

Mikoto said nothing. Tendrils of guilt prodded Garnet to move, and she caught the girl entirely by surprise when she gave her a quick hug from behind.

"Ah-ah!" Mikoto yelled, dropping the spatula. "Wh-what are you…?"

Garnet took a step back, grinning sheepishly. "Thanks, Mikoto. Thank you for everything. If there's ever anything you need from me or Alexandria, I'm entirely in your debt. But if you don't mind… I still have some questions."

Mikoto smoothed her dress, staring haughtily down her nose at the queen while failing to hide the blush creeping onto her complexion. "Hmph. Right. Well… over dinner, then."

v.

Garnet was quite pleased to see that Zidane had an appetite, as meagre as it was. He ate with mechanical efficiency that demonstrated neither etiquette nor impoliteness. He seemed to eat because he had to.

"He's still unique from the other genomes," Mikoto explained while scooping boiled potatoes onto Blank's plate. "The others don't need to eat – not properly anyway. Their bodies were made to withstand prolonged lengths of time without nourishment so Garland didn't have to feed a civilisation on a planet as barren as Terra. But the soul brings with it a desire to eat, reproduce, sleep and so forth."

Garnet pushed fried meat around her plate. "That's not what I'm worried about. I don't care if he doesn't eat another bite for the rest of his life as long as he's normal again."

Mikoto gestured to Zidane with her fork. "This _is_ normal."

Garnet felt her temper froth, so took a deep, shaky breath before continuing. "Yes, maybe for a genome he's normal. But I want him back to how he was. His personality, his memories. Don't misunderstand, I'm so glad he's alive and free of Garland's mental conditioning… but if I'd known he would be like this…"

"You what? Would have let him die?"

"No… No that's not it…" Garnet denied dejectedly, sinking into her chair.

Blank pushed his half eaten dinner away and propped his elbows onto the table. "Is there a way to… y'know… bring back the old Zidane again? I mean, the kid was a pain in the ass but it kinda sucks seeing him like…" He gestured awkwardly at the quiet genome across the table, who stared vacantly at his brother.

"You can re-teach him, you know," Mikoto suggested. "He's not stupid. He can learn who you all are again, who he is, his past…"

"But it wouldn't be the same, would it?" Garnet said. "I could tell him over and over that he's my husband but it wouldn't make him love me."

Mikoto's eyes searched her plate and she bobbed a shoulder apologetically. "What do you want me to do? I can only make new genomes… restoring old models just wasn't done on Terra." She sat up straight suddenly. "I could try and give him a new soul… and maybe with time he could develop a new one! The other genomes can't but… but Zidane's different –"

"I don't want a new Zidane!" Garnet cried. Much to her dismay her eyes grew hot and her voice cracked. "I want the old Zidane. I want _my_ Zidane!"

She scooted away from the table, embarrassed and upset, and dashed out the front door, swallowing sobs and clenching her fists. Mikoto went to follow but Blank grasped her arm, shaking his head.

Outside, the muggy weather heralded a storm. The wind was just beginning to pick up, making the pine trees sway like a dancing crowd. The owls became quiet, their animal instincts acknowledging the change in atmosphere as they took to their roosts, feathery shoulders hunched against the intruding breeze.

Garnet didn't know where she was going until she was already there, staring down at Vivi's grave. His was always adorned with flowers and trinkets. His staff leaned against his headstone as if he'd propped it there to collect later. She dropped to her knees, breeze stirring her hair, and ran her fingers over the indents that spelled his name on the grey stone.

'Vivi Oruntia  
The Song Is Ended  
But The Melody Lingers On'

"Vivi," Garnet whispered. "I need your help… What should I do…?"

Somewhere in the distance, thunder rumbled an answer.

vi.

It was dark when she returned to Mikoto's home. The storm had just rolled in and big, fat drops of rain splattered noisily at her feet as she hesitated outside the little red door.

Garnet felt calmer now and resented her ungrateful actions toward Mikoto, who had excelled in restoring Zidane in body, if not his soul. She'd thrown it back in her face. She intended to apologise for her behaviour, but when she entered the house was dark. The table had been cleared and the kitchen cleaned. Mikoto was gone.

Garnet sighed and sank into an armchair, throwing a hand over her face. Outside, the rain came down with force. A shard of lightning briefly illuminated the eaves and the wind whistled.

Funny, she thought she'd feel better once Zidane was out of the Production Capsule, even if he was… different. But now she felt emptier than ever. Zidane seemed… he seemed…

_Just say it._

He seemed dead, now.

Then why wasn't she mourning? The answer had come to her at Vivi's grave as his actions drifted back to her through a haze of memory. His bravery, his persistence… Though he hadn't been able to see past the end of his modesty to acknowledge it, he was so much stronger than any of them, maybe even Zidane. He thought he was the pupil but truly he had taught her so much, perhaps the most important lesson of all:

_Keep fighting. There's always hope._

The room brightened abruptly and Garnet shot upright, glancing round. A bar of light fell from the open hatch in the ceiling, the one that led up to the bedroom.

"Mikoto?" Garnet called hopefully. There was no reply, so she crossed the room and climbed the ladder.

Instead she found Zidane. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, tugging on a shirt. A single candle burned on the bedside table but the bedsheets were unruffled. Had he been sitting in the dark this whole time?

"Oh, sorry," Garnet apologised awkwardly. "I didn't know you were up here."

Her words echoed back hollowly, and she frowned. When had Zidane become a stranger to her? He was still Zidane, still her husband for the gods' sakes!

"Zid," she pleaded, slipping over the bed to sit next to him. He stared at her blankly and finished pulling the shirt down his torso. She raised a hand to his cheek, her eyes dark with sorrow and longing as she leaned forward. He recoiled away in surprise but didn't resist when she pressed her lips against his. His arms went limp at his sides; she could barely hear him breathing. She slid both arms around his neck and shifted her weight to straddle him, encouraging him to kiss her back as she brushed her lips alluringly against his.

After a moment she leaned back. He stared at her, face scrubbed of emotion, eyes shadowed by the candlelight.

"Please remember," Garnet implored, taking his hand and sliding it up her dress and along the outside of her thigh. "Don't you remember me?"

His eyes flicked briefly to her breasts, accentuated by the harsh light of the candle, and she arched her back involuntarily, hand sliding down his chest and up again, tangling in his hair. He leaned back a little, giving her the opportunity to shift onto his crotch. But when she leaned forward to kiss him again he withdrew his hand from underneath her dress and frowned. "You are… Genomes are not meant to –"

"Just try to remember, _please_. There must be something left of you in there…"

"I am… just a vessel," he droned. Then in a surprisingly dexterous movement he shifted her onto her back and stood up. "If this is your sleeping place then I should go elsewhere." Hesitantly, and somewhat informatively, he added, "Genomes should not reproduce until they are gifted with souls."

Gritting her teeth against the tears and scathing heartbreak, Garnet only nodded. She listened to him descend the ladder, and to the subtle noise of the couch creaking beneath a person's weight, then a bellow of thunder obscured any further noise.

She lay awake for a long time, hands clenched into fists while hot tears scoured steady paths down her cheeks.


	28. Ghosts

It's been a long time, eh? Over a year now, sheesh. I apologise for the long wait, but hopefully it'll be worth it ;) Please go to my profile regarding the status of my fics, though not before dropping a review on your way out, just so I know people are still alive out there!

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Seven**  
Ghosts

i.

_So this is what limbo is like_, Garnet thought.

As it was, limbo was actually very warm and pretty. The sun was shining, for a start, which made a delightful change to the perpetual rain that had pummelled the village for the past three days. Everywhere was sparkling and fresh. The fledgling sun picked out the water droplets that clung to every leaf and blade of grass as if nature had found a way to produce crystals, though of course this would be an impossible feat, unless something about the physical composition was modified and somehow –

_I've been spending way too much time with Mikoto, _Garnetmused grimly.

The Queen of Alexandria was perched on the edge of one of the village's many boardwalks, swinging her legs over the side so her bare feet trailed in the brook. Normally the water level would have been too low for her legs to reach, but the rain had caused the stream to swell in size, almost breaking the bank, and had caused the grasses and reeds to grow so tall as to obscure her from sight if anyone happened to pass by.

If this was some sort of limbo – which, if she was completely honest with herself, it was – she could not have wished for a lovelier setting. But when all was said and done, it was still a limbo, and limbo was a place that was neither here nor there, and maintained a dangerous illusion that time simply stood still, as if everything was trapped in a Stop spell.

Garnet couldn't deny it; she was stalling. She could fool herself no more than she could fool the people around her, and, apparently, those that were far away. Garnet furtively glanced at the letter in her hand, which sported the broken wax seal of the Alexandrian rose. She had roughly folded it up after reading it, but the bottom lines of the letter were still visible and her eyes were trailed across the neatly scribed handwriting before she could stop herself.

'_-much anticipate the costs of such an endeavour. Though I hate to trouble Your Majesty, this is one of many problems that cannot be solved without the reigning monarchy present to oversee and sign for the appropriate counteraction. Obviously this must be done in person as I cannot risk sending important paperwork over mognet after what happened last time. _

_I fear I must speak plainly, Your Majesty, for thus far my requests have been either ignored or denied. I have been made aware of the situation at hand and the difficulties surrounding your decisions, but your kingdom needs you. Please come home. _

_Yours faithfully,  
Beatrix_

_Ps Though it is of little import when considering the severity of current affairs, I will take this moment to note that your moogle has become intolerable in your absence, and due to a series of events that included the destruction of the bed in the Royal Chamber and the smashing of the chandelier in the Hall of Prosperity, he has been moved to the stables. He wishes you to know that he is displeased.' _

Sighing, Garnet folded the letter so the words were entirely obscured, and inwardly chided herself. Pretending the words did not exist wouldn't make them disappear, or change the situation.

For many days, Garnet had been teetering in between depression and denial, and had allowed herself to enter a kind of limbo in which she was shamelessly procrastinating. At first it had been because she had hoped that Zidane's condition might improve, but his condition had not altered; he was exactly the same as the day he had awakened from the tank, so she could not use that to excuse her procrastination.

Well, there had been a _slight_ change in his persona, though not necessarily a good one. He seemed to be expressing a mild form of intolerance to Garnet's presence. She had never seen a genome express anything close to irritation, but she swore she saw a flicker of it behind Zidane's blue eyes every time she tried to talk to him. She wasn't sure if this was progress, but she would rather he didn't show any emotion at all if the alternative meant he was going to start hating her. In fact, the last time she had seen that irritation in his eyes she had fluffed up, inexplicably furious. She yelled at him, called him every name under the sun and then she slapped him. Zidane had just stood there, emotionless and unresponsive, even as his slapped cheek slowly went pink. Somehow, that was so much worse than if he had gotten angry, and that made Garnet even more upset. She burst into tears and ran off, no doubt leaving behind a mildly perplexed genome.

Garnet snorted. _That's what he's become? 'A genome'?_ Garnet lifted a hand to the sapphire necklace around her neck. It was odd to think that he was still her husband. As the days had passed and she had been forced to interact with him, she had slowly begun to accept that he wasn't Zidane anymore. He could barely be called a stranger, because at least strangers possessed some form of personality and eventually they were a stranger no more. He was just… a shell of person. There was nothing left of the man she had loved so much.

_Then why is it so hard to return to Alexandria?_

And thus laid the dilemma. Leave him here ('where he belongs,' Mikoto had told her) or take him back to Alexandria.

It was a harder decision than she thought it would be. Taking him with her had been the natural answer. He was the Prince Consort, her husband, her Zidane. But then she would look at him and something inside her went quiet, because he wasn't anymore, not really. And as she began to accept that, she began to consider leaving him behind, and the cycle of her dilemma would commence once more.

So she dwelt in this limbo, sheltered from any important decision making, from being a wife and a queen. But she knew it would have to come to an end eventually, the way a child realises that a day will come when it will be forced to put away its toys and silliness to become an adult.

"Golly, this door is so… so… _bothersome_!"

The voice jolted Garnet out of her reverie. She looked over her shoulder and spotted one of the black mages trying to get into the Item Shop. His arms were laden with a tall stack of boxes, which wobbled preciously as he struggled to push open the door with his foot. As the mage went to kick the door again, his comically large feet slipped on the wet woodwork and he fell backwards. The boxes flew from his hands and into the air, then crashed down atop his head, bouncing one by one off his hat. Garnet suppressed a very inappropriate giggle, then got to her feet and went to help him.

"Oh, ah, thank you so much," the mage said as she helped him to his feet. He leaned forward and dusted off the knees of his pants in manner so similar to Vivi that Garnet nearly slapped his hands away in distress. She restrained herself, wondering if the mage had gotten the habit from Vivi in the first place, and if so, it was kind of nice to know that Vivi's little endearments might be passed onto the next generations of black mages.

"Let me help you," Garnet said as she stooped down to pick up a box. Apologetically, she added, "I'm sorry, I'm sure we've met before but your name…?"

"Mr 177," the mage said, eyes shining brightly. Without a hint of accusation he added, "We've met lots of times! I run the Item Shop, see?" He redundantly waved a hand at the building he was trying to get into. "I inherited it from Mr 163 after he… after he… _Stopped_." He said the last word in a whisper. As with any culture, death was somewhat of a taboo thing to talk about, but it seemed even more painful for the black mages, probably because of their limited lifespan.

"Oh," Garnet said, wondering what to say. "Well, let me help you in. You might find it better if you just walk backwards into the door when you have your hands full." She illustrated her suggestion, pushing the door open with her rump.

"Or by putting the boxes down!" the mage brightly contributed, as it was a game. "I was just in a bit of a rush. Sometimes my mind doesn't keep up with my actions."

Garnet smiled. "I think everyone has that sometimes. Where shall I put the boxes?"

"Behind the counter, please. I'll move them upstairs later."

"I could just move them there now?" Garnet suggested. The mage wrung his hands and she laughed. "You're not troubling me. How about I wait at the top of the ladder and you pass them up?"

The mage happily agreed. Garnet climbed to the second floor of the Item Shop then leaned through the hole with her arms outstretched. "Catch me if I fall," she joked, but the mage was so startled that he dropped the box he was holding and outstretched his arms, ready to do just that. Garnet sighed. "I'm not _actually_ going to fall, so don't worry. Just pass the boxes up."

Mr 177 passed them up one by one and then climbed up the ladder to join her while Garnet took a look around the room proper. It was obviously Mr 177's bedroom. There was a neatly made bed in one corner with a cat sleeping on the covers, and a wardrobe that was so full of clothes the doors would not close properly. The floorboards were bare and a little dusty in the corners, but it was really quite homely.

Mr 177 pushed the boxes against the wall and wiped the back of his hand against his dark forehead, making Garnet wonder if the mages' physical form could even work up a sweat (_I seriously need to stop hanging around Mikoto_)."Phew. Well, that takes care of that. I suppose I better open for business. Should be quite busy today as it's no longer raining."

"What was in those boxes anyway?" Garnet asked. They had varied in weight and contents, some being heavy and making clattering noises when they were moved, while others were light and silent.

Mr 177 was partway through the trapdoor, feet tapping against the rungs of the ladder. "Hm? Oh, just odds and ends. Curiosities to sell. Genomes like looking at them, did you know that? Especially the shiny ones. I once saw a genome try to eat a hair comb." He giggled shyly. "They're so funny, sometimes."

"Would you mind if I looked through them?" Garnet called as Mr 177 disappeared from view. He hollered back a positive reply and Garnet felt a sense of overwhelming relief. She wondered about this for a moment, then a sly little voice said, _Procrastinator._

She threw that thought away and knelt beside the first box. It was a simple cardboard construction, with its flaps secured with a length of yarn. After a bit of wrestling with the knots, she unwound the string and lifted the sides to reveal piles of clothing, both in the style of the mages and genomes. She wondered if they were newly made or if the mages and genomes donated them once they had outgrown them, then she remembered that neither species grew. She dropped the garment she held in her hand, feeling a little queasy, and pushed that box aside. The next boxwas far more interesting, being filled with an assortment of knickknacks; a stuffed owl, a length of silk ribbon, a little mirror set in a pearl frame, a colourful feather, a thimble, a box of matches, a pretty rock, and other such oddities. Garnet picked them up one by one, wondering where on Gaia the mage had found these things.

Something at the bottom caught her eye. She picked it up and wiped away dirt and dust with her sleeve to reveal a golden orb the size of her fist. She frowned, something tugging on her memory. After a moment of holding it, her fingers started to tingle and she detected a very, very low magic signature, the most gentlest of pulses, like the heartbeat of a dying animal. She wondered if it was a summoning gem but immediately dismissed the thought, knowing she would have sensed the presence of an eidolon the moment she touched it. As she turned it over in her hands she noticed a small hole, as if it had once fit into something…

It clicked in her head so suddenly that it was like she had been slapped around the face. She held it away from her, both horrified and surprised.

_This orb… it used to be attached the top of Vivi's High Mage Staff! _

Though Vivi had been in possession of many staves during their travels, the High Mage Staff was one of the last he acquired, and the magical waves it emitted, even without Vivi manipulating it, were so powerful that just being in its presence made Garnet feel faint. Eiko complained on many occasions that the weapon made her nauseous. Vivi made a point to discard it after the war had ended, but apparently he had dismantled it too.

"Mr 177!" Garnet shouted. Not getting a response, she poked her head through the trapdoor, saw that he was serving a customer and bleated an apology. The mage he was serving waved at her**,** and she returned the gesture, though less enthusiastically. The genome that helped Mr 177 run the store had appeared at some point, and stared at her with mild curiosity.

"Are you alright?" Mr 177 said over his shoulder.

"I was just wondering where you got this." Garnet held the orb so Mr 177 could see. It might have been her imagination, but she could have sworn she saw him blanch, and then mutter, "… threw it in the lake…" He said loudly, "Um, it was… _his_. You know… Vivi's. He donated all his things to the shop after he… Stopped."

"More of Vivi's things are here?" Garnet asked, feeling her stomach knot.

"I think so. I've never looked for them because they were given to Mr 163. They might not be here anymore."

Garnet felt a flare of indignation. They should treat Vivi's things with more care! He was one of Gaia's heroes after all and…

Garnet sighed. No use getting angry at the creatures. They weren't to know. She sat back against the floor and looked at the orb in her hand. It might have been her imagination, or the way the sunlight fell through the windows, but she could have sworn the orb was glowing very, very faintly. Surely not? Not once separated from its vital counterpart, the actual stave? Garnet couldn't do black magic so it wouldn't react to _her_, unless the power of Mr 177 was –

Suddenly the orb flared like Ifrit's mane and shot out of her hand. She yelped in alarm and dropped flat against the floor, terrified the orb would crack her skull if it came hurtling back, but she heard a dull thunk as it hit the floor, startling the cat off the bed and out the window. Then she heard the sound of it rolling. She looked up, hands covering her head, and saw it moving slowly, almost with purpose (though perhaps it was only the natural slope of the floorboards) beneath the bed.

_What in Bahamut's name was _that_?_

She had half a mind to leave it where it was, or at least ask Mr 177's advice before she started messing around with the dark magicks, but as she was halfway to the ladder, she stopped.

It was something she would not be able to clearly recall later, but at the time it was almost as if she lost control of her mind and body, like something was urging her to follow the orb. It was more than curiosity driving her, more than simple desire. It was a compulsion. It was out of her control.

Without a conscious thought, Garnet dropped to her knees and crawled across the floorboards until she was close enough to peer under the bed. Only then did her thoughts return to her (if they had ever left her at all). She had expected the orb to chase away the shadows with its topaz light, but there was only darkness. The orb was a round shadow in the dark corner, showing no signs that it had ever been aglow. She frowned, wondering if she either imagined the whole thing as a result from not sleeping or eating properly, or if there had been one final burst of magic left in the thing, triggered by the magic in her blood, regardless of it being white.

In any event, Garnet felt like she should at least retrieve the object, and reached under the bed. Her fingers were about a hair breadth away from touching its smooth surface when, right in front of her eyes, the orb shifted to the left. She might have convinced herself that it had moved due to a shift of the floorboards as she edged further under the bed, but it had moved so sharply, so _exactly_, that she found her theory difficult to believe.

As she watched, the ball moved again – slowly, precisely – until it came to rest against a box she had not previously noticed.

_Can't be a coincidence._

Garnet wriggled under the bed and grabbed both the orb and the box, and brought them out into the light. She looked at the orb and was surprised to find that it had gone from being a dusky golden colour to dark, dark brown. The tingling in her fingertips did not reappear and she sensed nothing from it. She might as well have been holding a stone. Absently, she tucked it into the overalls she was wearing and turned her attention to the box.

She immediately deduced that it was long misused. It was a small thing, about the length and width of her hand, and the lid of the box was covered in a thick layer of dust. She blew it off, but there was no writing to indicate the nature of its contents. Again, she felt that strange tug, that urge to do something. She undid the ribbon that held the lid in place and lifted it off, half expecting to find bones, or another magical artefact, or something just as odd.

There was only a book. Garnet stared at it, mildly dismayed, then she read the letters scribed neatly on its front and she dropped the lid in surprise.

'_Journal of Vivi Orunitia'_

Garnet moved to take it out of the box, but hesitated, feeling an itch of guilt. If this truly was Vivi's journal then it would possess his most private thoughts. Though she loved him dearly and had known him better than most, she did not feel comfortable prying into his written secrets; it wasn't right.

The orb was a hard, heavy presence in the pocket of her overalls, reminding her of the way it had flared, the way it rolled...

She frowned. Surely Vivi hadn't led her…?

_Ridiculous_, Garnet dismissed, but did not replace the lid. Instead, she lifted the journal from the box with such care someone might think it was made of moth wings. The book was bound in red leather, cool in the palms of her hands, and closed by a strip of blue ribbon. Heart beating fast, Garnet undid its binding and opened it.

As expected, the pages were crammed from top to bottom with Vivi's neat, albeit childish, handwriting. She noted that his handwriting style contained several characteristics native to the Qu, who tended to make their letters very wide, and peppered each word with little dots and shapes that indicated the severity of the emotion behind a word, probably due to their limited range of adjectives (Quina pretty much described everything as either 'yummy' or 'taste-bad'). Vivi clearly had a much wider vocabulary than the Qu, but he still used the marks to put emphasis on certain words. Garnet had never been thoroughly schooled in the writing of the Qu clans, so she hoped understanding Vivi's journal wouldn't rely on her knowledge of their language.

Garnet delicately flicked through the pages, all of which were completely full and often included little sketches. Her eyes lingered on these first. Near the beginning, they were of the Black Mage Village; adorable little depictions of the smiling houses and cheerful mages. Later, the subjects became more varied; flowers, owls, trees, genomes, even Mikoto's work place. As Garnet skipped a few pages the smile that was slowly easing across Garnet's face froze. The cheerful imagery was abruptly intercepted by a picture of the Iifa tree. Though it was unmistakably the tree, it was of the new tree, the dead tree, hunched over and imprisoned in a snare of its own roots.

Garnet's thoughts went cold. The illustrations were alarmingly accurate. Did Vivi visit the Iifa Tree? Why on Gaia would he go back _there_?

With no small amount of trepidation, Garnet backtracked a few pages and started to read.

ii.

_September 21__st_

Eiko can be so annoying sometimes. Don't get me wrong, I do really, really like her and everything, and I think about her all the time (which is weird), and I'm probably the only one who goes to Lindblum just to see _her_, rather than seeing her as the by-product of a political visit. But sometimes I think Amarant was right about her. She is kind of a brat.

I was really excited about coming to Lindblum because I hadn't seen Eiko since forever, but the moment I arrived all she did was shout at me because I was late. I wasn't even _that_ late, I just sort of forgot about the time difference and how quickly it takes to open interspatial portals. Much faster than sitting on an airship for days (thank goodness for dimensional windows – now I never get sick!) Anyway, she was mad and ran off into the scary part of Lindblum Castle, shouting something about how I didn't care for her anymore, and that if I wanted to see her I'd have to see her _there, _to prove that I was still her friend.

She _knows_ I'm scared of the dungeon. Zidane always told me that there's nothing to be afraid of down there and that he knows because he's been in that part _lots_ of time and come out fine, but Zidane is much braver and stronger than I am. (I also think he was down there because he got arrested a lot, which is completely different to going down by yourself.)

Anyway, I really want to see Eiko so I'm going to go down there tomorrow. I just really wish I'd brought my stave.

_22__nd__ September_

I couldn't do it. I'll go down there tomorrow.

_23__rd__ September_

I had an interesting conversation with Eiko today. Oh, wait, let me back track a bit.

I finally went into the dungeon. It was so scary. Firstly, there aren't really any lights, just a few torches spaced out really far from each other, so there are so many dark corners and shadows and I have to run between each light, which makes it even scarier because it feels like something is going to jump out and grab me whenever I slowed down or tripped. And there were weird noises, like dripping water and growling. I wondered if Regent Cid kept monsters in the dungeon like that noble in Treno did. Zidane told me he actually had a _behemoth_ down there at one point!

I eventually found Eiko playing with the moogles in one of the cells, like it was her bedroom or something. She's so brave.

'_Finally_!' she said, rolling her eyes at me. 'The cry baby has overcome his fear of the dark.'

'It's not the dark,' I insisted (though that was a bit of a lie). 'It's just… scary down here.'

Eiko puffed out her chest and put her hands on her hips. 'Feh! How is it scary? You gotta know your fear before you conquer it!'

'There might be ghosts,' I answered honestly.

Eiko laughed. 'Ghosts? We can take them on any day! Or have you forgotten how to fight already?'

(I should have asked her the same thing, really. She was wearing an _actual_ dress the other day. It was yellow and had frills and a bow _and_ a petticoat. It was weird, but she did look pretty.)

'No, no, not like the monsters,' I rectified. 'I mean like the ghosts of evil people who want to hurt the living.' I looked around warily. 'There must be loads down here.'

This time Eiko's hands went limp at her sides and her mouth hung open like a frog catching flies. 'Evil spirits? Vivi, you're dumber than you look! There's no such thing as ghosts!'

I have to admit, that really did surprise me. Of all people, I thought Eiko would have believed in ghosts. She did summon magical beasts from another dimension, after all – what's so different or so much more extreme about human ghosts?

'Don't you believe in souls?' I asked.

She rolled her eyes again, her voice taking on that sardonic tone that used to annoy Amarant so much. 'Um, I was kinda there with you when we were going through the whole Terra and Gaia thing, the Iifa tree, cycle of souls… remember that? It was kind of a big deal.'

(She really can be annoying sometimes.)

'So if there are souls, why wouldn't there be ghosts?' I said. 'Aren't ghosts just angry souls that can't reach the crystal?'

Eiko stared at me for a long time after that, and suddenly she looked around the dungeon with a weird look on her face. It took me a little while to realise she was bit scared - I'd actually managed to scare her! I can't even believe I'm putting this in writing. If you ever read this, Eiko, I'm sorry.

Eiko snorted. 'Hmph. I still won't believe it until I see one.' (Though she wasn't in a hurry to stay in the dungeon after that, thank goodness).

I decided against telling her that I'd seen the ghost of Grampa. I didn't mean to scare her after all. Anyway, I've never told anyone about that time. Zidane was there, but he didn't see him. I don't know why. I wish Dagger had been there, or Eiko, because I bet they would've seen him, being summoners and all, and then I wouldn't wonder if I was crazy so much…

No. I had seen him. Definitely. I'll never forget his words… I'm so glad he came back to see me one last time. The war was so difficult, I really needed him. I still need him. Grampa…

_24__th__ September_

I'm back at the Black Mage Village! I miss Eiko already.

I should be happy that I'm back, but I'm very worried today. I've been thinking a lot.

(Zidane would say I shouldn't think so much, but I can't help it.)

I know that one day my time will come to an end and I'll… Stop. But I don't mind too much anymore because I've found a way to continue my line. It really is amazing – I can't get over it. Seeing baby mages being born is the best thing ever. What's even more amazing is that they develop souls the moment they wake up! And they're made from _my_ DNA! It's just amazing. I love them all so much. I owe Mikoto a debt I can't ever repay.

I guess that's why I've been worrying. Mikoto is different from the other genomes, I know that. She's like Zidane but… at the same time… she isn't. Mikoto… doesn't care.

I don't understand the way she thinks, but I'm trying really hard to. Before we found a way to create black mages without using Mist, I used to cry every night. I couldn't imagine a day when there would be no more black mages - I couldn't bear the thought of it. I know it's not their fault, but the other mages didn't care that they would all be dead one day. It was up to me.

And now I feel like the continuation of the genome species is up to me too. Well, I can't really do that much, but I have to convince Mikoto to build more. Maybe she can find a way to give them souls too! That would be awesome.

The problem is, she doesn't want to. I just don't understand…

_26__th__ September_

I can't stop thinking about ghosts. I know, it's so silly. In fact, that's exactly what Mikoto called me when I asked her if she'd ever seen a ghost.

'Don't be silly,' she said. 'There's no such thing.'

'Maybe there wasn't on Terra,' I countered, 'but could they exist here? After all, wasn't the Mist pretty much made up of ghosts?'

(I hope Mikoto likes me. She's always busy and impatient and always flaps her hand around like she's trying to shoo me away, but she never asks me to leave so…)

'Once the soul leaves the body it becomes insentient. Everyone knows that.'

'But what if there are exceptions to the rule?'

'Why would there be? The crystal draws them in, like a vacuum. They can't go anywhere accept towards Iifa and the crystal respectively.'

I just can't believe that. I know I saw my Grampa, I just know it. But what does that mean? What am I trying to achieve here? Ugh. My brain hurts. I wish Zidane was here…

_October 1__st_

Today I asked the question that has been bothering me for some time. I could have asked it quite a while ago, but… Mikoto isn't a very happy person as it is, and I don't think talking about her past makes her any happier. But I asked her anyway because it's important.

'Mikoto, where did your soul come from?'

Mikoto was fixing up one of the doo-hickey's in her lab, so I probably hadn't picked the best of times to ask, but I wasn't expecting her to look so cross. I mean, Mikoto hasn't mastered the angry expression quite as well as Mr Steiner, or Eiko, but I can tell when she's mad. Her tail gets all bushy, the way Zidane's used to if a man looked at Dagger for too long.

'My soul comes from Terra's bank of stasis souls,' she replied.

'Oh,' I said. I really don't know what that meant. At any rate I needed her to explain a bit more. 'Is that the same thing as the cycle of souls?'

'No,' Mikoto said. 'Garland couldn't isolate the souls in the stream – there's too many and it's too vast. Terra had supplied Garland with a set of individual souls that he could use to implant within genomes, it the situation required it. I was one of them.'

'Do you remember anything from… from before you were… put in the genome body?'

Mikoto was looking really hard at the machine-thing in front of her, but I don't think she was really looking at it. 'No. Not really. It doesn't work that way, I think. I never grasped the concept behind souls.' She smiled a bit. 'Neither did Garland or Kuja, for that matter.'

'Do you think the genomes will ever develop souls like the mages?'

Mikoto shook her head. 'Genome bodies are not designed to accommodate Gaian souls.'

'Couldn't you just design a genome that _could_ accommodate a Gaian soul?'

Mikoto stared at me for a long while after I said that. I couldn't tell what she was feeling at all, it was as if her brain had got fizzled. She told me to get out though, so I guess she was kind of mad.

_October 5th_

I can feel my time running out. I've successfully assured that the black mages will continue once I'm gone, but I want to make sure the genomes do too. And I want them to have souls. I think Zidane would want that too. I reckon I can convince Mikoto to build modified genomes (if it can be done on this planet – oh dear, I didn't even think about that!) but it's getting the souls that's difficult. Where do souls even come from? How are they made? What happens to them when we die?

We learnt so much on our travels, so the answer must lie somewhere there. The crystal is where souls return to and where new life is born. The souls used to be funnelled to the crystal through Iifa (and were divided there too, but obviously that doesn't happen anymore, thank goodness), but Iifa is dead. Though I can't help but wonder… is it still functional? Didn't Iifa's trunk lead to crystal? So wouldn't that still be the most effective route?

The mages naturally developed souls. New souls. Or were they old souls that had accommodated the empty body? I don't know. At any rate, I'm beginning to wonder if souls can move independently of the crystal's… 'vacuum', as Mikoto put it. If that's the case then maybe the modified genomes could attract souls too!

I think I'm going to make a trip to the Iifa tree.

iii.

Garnet turned the page but it was blank of writing. Instead there was a series of sketches depicting various roots, foliage and some other scenery she couldn't make head or tails of. She carefully shut the book and leaned her back against the bed, closing her eyes.

What did this mean? Vivi was trying to find a way to give the genomes souls, though clearly it was proving far more difficult than how the mages acquired them. How did the mages gain their souls anyway?

Though she recognised the importance and the potential of what was written in Vivi's journal, Garnet's head began to hurt and she decided that was quite enough thinking for one day. She tucked the book under one arm and descended the ladder.

"Is it okay if I take this book?" Garnet asked Mr 177.

The mage peered around a customer at the dusty tomb in her hands. His eyes glowed brightly. "Sure! Normally I would ask for money, because this is a shop, but as you were so nice to me this morning I'll let you have it for free."

Garnet smiled. "Thank you. If you find any more books like this, please me know, okay?"

Mr 177 nodded and waved goodbye, and Garnet left the hut feeling both apprehensive and excited. For the first time in days, she felt like she had edged out of limbo.


	29. Cycle Of Souls

I'm so glad people are still interested in reading this old fic, and it's nice seeing some familiar faces in the reviews. You guys rock.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Eight**  
Cycle of Souls

i.

Garnet knew she was dreaming the moment she opened her eyes. This meant that the dream wasn't a dream precisely, but something else, created just outside of her subconscious in the place where her magic dwelt and the eidolon's could extend their tendrils of influence over her mind like ivy growing up a wall. The telltale sign of a not-dream was the definable beginning, rather than the indistinct sense of _now_ that a normal dream has, and also because she was so lucid.

Garnet was encased inside a green light that shone with all the fluorescence of Leviathan's scales. It was blinding, tangible and yet intangible, distant yet near, and unquantifiable. Though there was no indication of direction, Garnet was very aware that she was looking down. She sensed rather than saw the vastness beneath her, and instinctively knew that the drop was very, very big. Vertigo made everything go swimmy for a moment as her stomach performed some very interesting flips.

The light pulsed, blinding her, and suddenly she became aware that she was falling. Panic shot through her body as she struggled against the light's magnetism, but she was incorporeal and could not thrash or scream or anchor herself to anything. She was sinking to the bottom of a luminous ocean, and when she reached the bottom there would be something much more frightening than death.

She could feel it now; her mind was unravelling and drifting away. The light was breaking her apart, piece by piece, hungrily devouring her identity, her memories, her sanity; she was becoming less of a person with every non-existent breath she took. She frantically tried to hold herself together, but her being slipped between her fingers as smoothly as water.

The name of her mother disappeared. The taste of her favourite food disappeared. The name of her birthplace disappeared. The sound of her father's voice disappeared.

Garnet's panic spiralled out of control as she became more disembodied. She fought to encase her essence, reaching for the memory of how to compress a ball of magic in the palm of her hand, but the memory of how to do that disappeared too, so all she could do was chant memories over and over in her head; names of places, names of friends, her first kiss, watching 'The Prince and the Lion' with her father, her mother's embrace, the feel of sand beneath her feet, the smell of chocobo feathers…

_It's working!_

A green tentacle shot out of blinding pit and wrapped itself around her core. She tried to scream, but nothing came out. Another tentacle emerged and latched onto her from another direction. They constricted and she felt herself bulge under the pressure. More memories flew away from her like birds breaking away from a flock, and then the tentacles began to reel her in towards the light, towards nothingness –

ii.

Garnet awoke with a scream tearing out of her throat. She shot upright, clawing the air wildly as her hair whipped around her face and her breath came in short, frantic bursts. Something was still clinging to her with a tenacious grip and fear eclipsed her senses. She struggled to get away, yelling now, and blinked to clear the blurriness from her eyes.

Zidane was sitting on the edge of her bed with his hands firmly grasping her biceps. There was no concern in his eyes though, or in his tone, as he said, "You were being overly active in your sleep. I thought you were malfunctioning and was trying to bring you to Mikoto."

Garnet's stomach churned suddenly and violently. "I'm going to vomit."

Zidane blinked at her, then opened his mouth to say something, but Garnet didn't give him a chance as she shoved him out the way and ran to the far side of the room, where she was noisily sick into the chamber pot.

The emotions she experienced during the dream – the sensation of her existence unravelling –clung to her many moments longer than what she considered normal. In all her years of suffering from vivid, lucid dreams, she had never experienced something so intense. For an awful moment, she had actually thought she was going to die. Could someone even die in their dreams? Go insane? If Zidane hadn't woken her up…

Garnet remained on the floor for some time after the nausea had passed, trembling violently. She curled into a ball and pressed her forehead against the cool floorboards. Her mind felt on the verge of breaking; her emotions were balanced on the very edge of her sanity.

"Do you require sustenance?" Zidane (if she could even call him that anymore) asked from the other side of the room.

_I hate you_, she thought. _I hate you. I hate that you're not Zidane but you are Zidane and you're the closest thing I'll ever get to having him again but you'll never ever be him and it'll never be the same –_

Garnet began to cry. She couldn't help it. She had felt it building for days: the constant hotness at the corners of her eyes and the lump that clogged her throat, so great that she felt like a well about to overflow after heavy rain, but she had fought it down, convinced that she was long past crying.

Great, heavy sobs wracked her body as she scrunched tighter into a ball, smelling her own sick and sweat. She wondered if she could even go back to being queen without him. It was a role she had prepared for her whole life, a role she had fulfilled even when Zidane had been presumed dead all those years, but now it seemed empty and stupid. She also wondered if her emotional display was making that empty genome feel anything at all. Gods, she missed Zidane so much…

"I will fetch Mikoto," Zidane said, and made for the ladder, but Garnet lunged forward and grabbed the end of his tail.

"No, no. Don't get Mikoto, I'm fine. I'm just… I had a nightmare, that's all."

Zidane flicked his tail out of her hand, though his face showed no sign of annoyance. Instead, he asked, "Nightmares?"

Garnet sniffed and sat up, then crossed her arms over her aching stomach. "Yeah, bad dreams." She looked at him. "Do you dream, genome?"

Zidane blinked at her, then his eyebrows drew down very, very slightly. "Dream…? I… do not… dream…" He sounded uncertain.

Garnet shakily climbed to her feet and approached him, eyes wide and beseeching. "Do you remember your dreams about the blue light? You had a lot of those. Do you remember telling me about them? We were in the Black Mage Village Inn. They were about Terra, you're birthplace. You went to find it once when you were a child and Baku…" She trailed off. Zidane was staring at her blankly, as if she was relaying a list of meaningless statistics. She sighed and scraped her hair out of her face. "Nevermind. Though I don't fancy any sustenance right away, you could fill the tub up for me. Please."

Zidane hesitated, and then nodded. He delicately skirted around her (making a noticeable effort not to touch her) and disappeared down the ladder.

Alone now, Garnet rubbed her stinging eyes. She wished Mikoto would move Zidane's shell somewhere else so she wouldn't have to interact with him. Though Zidane had opted to sleep on the sofa ever since the incident on the first night of his awakening, and was usually gone before she woke up, it still meant seeing him a lot more than she liked. She had put forward her request to Mikoto, but had been refused with another 'you're-so-ungrateful' lecture, which always made Garnet feel guilty, and then on the waves of her guilt came the hope that she might somehow coax Zidane's personality out of his shell. Yet her hopes were always ruthlessly crushed beneath his vacant stare (or worse, his very mildly irritated one, which was the same expression one might wear when there's a small fly buzzing around one's face).

For the sake of her sanity, she was going to have to make a decision soon. But first, she was going to speak to Mikoto about Vivi's strange ideas on souls.

Garnet slowly undressed. Her whole body felt stiff and run down and her bones creaked in protest when she stretched her arms over her head. Not for the first time, she noticed her extreme weight loss and the gradual disappearance of her womanly curves. Now she was all harsh angles and showed bones she didn't even know she had. It wasn't surprising though; she was pretty sure she had just vomited up all the food she'd consumed in the past week.

Garnet wrapped a towel around her body and climbed down the ladder. Zidane was just walking through the back door, holding a bucket of boiled water. He glanced over his shoulder and said, "The tub is full now."

Garnet followed him into Mikoto's small, unkempt garden. It was the only part of her property where she didn't exhibit her penchant for neurotic order. Garnet reckoned the only reason it wasn't a complete jungle was because of the pine tree in the middle of the garden, whose needle-like foliage made the ground practically infertile for other plant life to grow, aside from the toughest of weeds.

The tin bath was set on the carpet of pine needles, close to the house. Garnet had been reluctant to bathe here at first due to lack of privacy, but Mikoto reassured her that the village's inhabitants knew better than to wander around the back of her house, and even if they came across her by chance, they wouldn't appreciate the naked human form.

Eventually, Garnet became used to the arrangement, and Mikoto's word held true.

Zidane poured the remaining water into the steaming tub then returned to the house without a backward glance. Garnet stared after him, heart aching. She was still getting used to having her normally amorous husband express nothing but indifference toward her. He never lingered when she was undressing or bathing, nor did his eyes ever wander to anything below face level. She might as well have not possessed a body.

Disregarding his former personality, Garnet still found his behaviour odd. She wondered if the genomes were designed to demonstrate discretion around the opposite sex. Mikoto told her they lacked the drive to reproduce, but they _were_ capable of having sex. Did Garland programme their prudent behaviour to prevent any unforeseen accidents? Or had he completely supressed their sex drive?

The thought was unsettling, so she pushed it aside. Garnet whipped off the towel and slid beneath the water with a grateful groan.

ii.

Garnet finally found Mikoto sitting cross legged atop a contraption the size of a small house inside one of the many disused chambers on the Invincible. The top of this particular monstrosity was domed, but Mikoto seemed to be defying gravity on the outer edges of its curves, to the point where her entire body was facing the floor. Garnet spent a baffled moment wondering if this was some kind of weird genome ability, until she spotted Mikoto's tail wrapped around a pipe behind her, apparently taking her weight.

"Have you come here to stare at me, or did you want to talk?" Mikoto asked coolly, not bothering to look up from a chart she was studying.

"They must come in handy," Garnet said.

"What?"

"Your tail. Why do genomes have tails anyway?"

Mikoto's blank expression turned sour. "You answered the question yourself. If you're here to quiz me about genome anatomy then go ask one of the vessels drifting around the village; they are programmed with extensive knowledge of their own functions and genetics, unlike the life forms on this planet, who don't even know how their own bodies work. Ridiculous." She waved a hand. "At any rate, leave me alone. I'm busy."

Garnet stepped up to the contraption Mikoto was sitting on and ran a hand over its smooth, metallic surface. Something inside it was clunking and it radiated a gentle heat. "What does this do?"

Garnet heard Mikoto sigh impatiently. "It used to run one of the Invincible's engines."

"And now?"

"Obviously nothing."

"Then why is it running?"

Mikoto glared at her narrowly. "Why are you here?"

Garnet returned her glare with a coy smile. "I have some questions I want to ask you. They're… important. Will you come down?"

There was something behind Mikoto's eyes that was very reminiscent of Kuja then. A kind of haughty impatience. It was nothing close to the arrogance Kuja had boasted, but Garnet had noticed similarities between them before, so much so that she even accredited her initial dislike of Mikoto to that, but now their likeness only appeared in rare flashes. Mikoto was callous and aloof, the way Kuja had been, but hers was not underlined by the malicious, sinister streak that had practically defined Kuja. Garnet often thought that Mikoto would have made a formidable enemy, had she chosen that path. A methodical, estranged killer was often more effective than a fierce one, and Mikoto was nothing if methodical. As it was, there was something of Zidane in her too. Something undefinable _good_. For that, Garnet was thankful.

The girl hopped down from the domed structure and headed toward the cockpit, her tail flicking in annoyance. Garnet assumed this was an invitation to follow, so she did.

Once in the cockpit, Mikoto busied herself with organising charts, saying, "Don't expect me to stop working for you. Say what you have to say and if you can't make it quick then at least attempt to make it concise."

Garnet briefly studied the charts Mikoto was shuffling. They looked like the blueprints Regent Cid used when designing or remodelling airships, except Mikoto's were all in Terran and looked far, far more complicated. It was pointless trying to understand them. She said, "I found Vivi's journal yesterday."

Mikoto didn't look up but raised an eyebrow and made a non-committal noise.

Garnet wondered what to tell her. If Mikoto was working on a way to create a new breed of genome, she was obviously reluctant to tell anyone about it, and Garnet thought it would be rude to ask, let alone reveal she was aware of its existence. "Tell me what you know about souls."

Mikoto levelled her with an unreadable look, then lowered her gaze to the blueprints again. "That's a very vague question."

Garnet thought about it for a moment. "What is a soul?"

"It's unquantifiable, is what it is," Mikoto replied irritably. "Too complicated to accurately delineate. It isn't what defines life, but it comes hand in hand with it. It appears in everything that is naturally conceived, be it a plant or a baby. If something is artificially created, such as a machine, genomes or the mages, they are without a soul, because a soul cannot be replicated."

"Then how is it that the mages developed souls?"

"You can't develop a soul. You either have one or you don't." She began to roll up the charts and slot them into cylindrical containers. "Gaia's Crystal is responsible for the creation of every soul on this planet. It acquires information from the memories of souls that have left their host forms, and then betters the next batch of souls, striving to maintain life, but ultimately to create improved life. However, if a life form is artificially created outside of the Crystal's influence, such as the mages, they are born without souls and are not part of the cycle. Men cannot make souls, only the Crystal can do that.

"Regarding the mages, I believe they got their souls from the Mist. The Mist was, essentially, the exhumed souls of Gaia's life forms, left to drift over the planet's surface and unable to return to the Crystal due to the dividing process. I believe the wandering souls took hold inside the empty vessels and began to grow again."

"So… a mage actually has an old soul inside of it, one that couldn't reach the Crystal."

Mikoto nodded. "If they had a new soul they would have been completely helpless, unable to do much beyond the most instinctual of functions. But the mages exhibited immediate awareness, intelligence and different personalities, and revealed talents they could not have learned as simple war drones. For example, Mr 676 discovered he could paint, and Mr 429 found he could cook. They have no memory of their past lives, possibly because the soul is not inside its original body, yet something of the soul's past life remains, enough to make me believe that the mages did not independently develop their souls."

Garnet nodded slowly, trying to understand. "So why did only some of them get souls? And why is it that the new baby mages have souls?"

Mikoto shrugged. "I can't give you a firm answer to either of those questions. Perhaps the mages that received souls were a faulty batch? Or perhaps the odds of a soul surviving inside a vessel it wasn't designed for are very slim? Regarding the babies, I imagine it's because they spend a significant amount of time maturing inside their eggs, giving the soul time to find the vessel. The success rate of it connecting with the vessel is probably raised too, considering that that the baby mages are undeveloped life forms. But the Mist…" She looked troubled for a moment. "Vivi never explained it to me. He came back from the Iifa Tree positive that he had figured out a way for genomes to acquire souls, but it would mean I would have to build some kind of stasis device similar to the one Garland…" She trailed off, eyes settling on Garnet. "It doesn't matter anyway. There's much to do before one can even the consider the complexity of soul-finding. I never got to ask Vivi about it before he died anyway, so I guess we'll never know."

Garnet stared at Zidane's little sister appreciatively. The survival of her kind rested on her shoulders. She had no help, no advanced Terran technology, no mentor to guide her, and yet she managed to continue, working tirelessly to ensure her species had a future with purpose. "Do you ever get lonely, Mikoto?"

Mikoto's expression remained impassive, but her tail bristled slightly. She turned away, busying herself with the chart containers. "I've never had company. I was the only soul-given genome on Terra and Garland wouldn't interact with me beyond overseeing my work on the production capsules. Besides, this is important… Or so Vivi convinced me."

"It is," Garnet said firmly. "And you won't be working on this forever. Once the new genomes are born and obtain souls, they'll begin to reproduce naturally and you'll finally be able to leave your lab for more than an hour at a time."

Mikoto looked momentarily troubled by that prospect, her gaze roaming the familiar jumble of wires and machinery. "I haven't thought that far ahead. There's no point." Her blue eyes returned to Garnet. "Are you done bothering me now?"

"Mm, almost. I need to borrow your assistant."

iii.

"Aw hell no."

Garnet didn't look up from the bottles of medicine that were carefully laid out on Mikoto's kitchen table. Would three phoenix downs be enough to see them through this ordeal? They were somewhat redundant considering her magical abilities, but if she was silenced and her companion became injured… Was there even still zombies at the Iifa Tree?

"Are you listening?...You're not listening. I'm saying no. N-o."

Best not to think that way. 'Negative thinking produces negative results', her father would say. But it didn't hurt to be careful. She'd buy just one more before they left the village. Maybe two.

"Will you…? Gah! Woman! I'm serious, I'm not going. You're on your own."

Garnet finally looked up, contemplating Blank through large, dark eyes. "I'm sorry, I thought I just heard you say you were willing to allow the Queen of Alexandria to wander through some of the most dangerous territory on the planet unescorted. I'm sure Baku would be very interested to hear about your reluctance, if anything was to happen…"

Blank blinked, then threw up his hands. "You're the big shot summoner, the war hero, the mage extraordinaire. What do you need me for?"

Garnet rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to flatter you, Blank. But it is going to be dangerous and I don't want to go by myself."

"You're not," Blank said as he hitched a thumb over his shoulder. "Mr Personality is going with you. Last time I checked he was, oh, you know, the strongest warrior in the entire world."

"You obviously haven't checked in a while." Garnet's eyes trailed over to Zidane, who nonchalantly gazed back. "Zidane, will you fight?"

"Vessels are not permitted to display acts of aggression for risk of damaging other vessels and the environment," he droned back.

Garnet tipped Blank a look and the redhead snorted. "Yeah, yeah, I got that part. But I bet you ten gil he's still got his fighting spirit."

"He doesn't have _any_ form of spirit."

"Nah, I mean… Just 'cause his personality is gone doesn't mean all that training is gone too. He must still be strong and have all those honed instincts. In fact…" Blank picked up his water flask and lobbed it across the room. The flask hit Zidane square between the eyes, making him stagger backwards.

"B-Blank!" Garnet yelled. "What on Gaia are you _thinking_?"

Blank gawped, then tittered sheepishly and ran a hand through his hair. "Ehehe, okay, my bad. I kinda thought he'd dodge it. Sheesh, what a pussy."

Garnet shook her head in exasperation and watched as Zidane stood straight again, revealing a small blemish on the bridge of his nose, and threw an incurious look towards the red head. _So he doesn't get annoyed when Blank throws a hard object at his head, but if I so much as speak to him he gets all tetchy,_ Garnet thought with annoyance.

"Anyway," Blank was saying, "I don't like that tree. Never have done. After I spent a month diggin' around its roots tryin' find that brain-dead loser I swore I'd never go back there again, and I'm kind of a man of my word. Also, it's cursed."

"Cursed isn't the word," Garnet replied. "I'd say it's more like the root of all evil. On the other hand," she added brightly, "it's also the root of all life as we know it. So maybe the karma will balance itself out. Anyway, I'm going with or without you, and I'm going today."

Blank hefted the weapon Garnet had bought him, then cocked the blade at Zidane. "I just want to clarify that you have the _worst_ taste in women. And also that you owe me big time." Zidane remained unmoved and Blank snorted. "How are ya gonna convince Sir Stare-A-Lot to go anyway?"

Garnet shrugged, not looking up from packing. "He just will. The genomes don't really have a purpose to contradict anymore so they do whatever you tell them to do."

"You don't think it's because it's _you_ asking him?"

Garnet shot him an annoyed look. "Blank, _look_ at him. He's not… He's not Zidane anymore. He doesn't think of me like that."

Blank hummed thoughtfully. "I dunno, man. He's been starin' at you this whole time and his tail is doin' that weird flicky thing it does whenever he's –" Blank abruptly cut himself off, the corner of his mouth twitching upward.

"What? Whenever he's what?"

"Ah you know." Blank rolled his wrist. "Whenever he's um… thinking about…" He scrambled for a word suited to the company. "_Girls_."

Garnet looked at Zidane. His eyes were indeed fixed on her, but they were just empty puddles of colour, scrubbed clean of emotion. But Blank was right about one thing, his tail was twitching around his ankles in a manner that might have been mistaken as playful, even flirtatious, gods knew she'd seen it enough times...

Garnet was struck by a startling realisation._ He's probably the only genome that's ever been sexually active. His body must be telling him things that the genome programming is contradicting_._ If his body is still lusting, it must really disrupt his system. No wonder he gets so annoyed around me._

Garnet sighed, wondering when she'd started to think so much like Mikoto. She didn't even bother reminding herself that Zidane wasn't a machine. Gods, she didn't even know what to call him anymore.

"Look, let's just get to the Iifa Tree as soon as possible. I have to know what Vivi found there. It might be my only hope of restoring Zidane to his former self."

"I wonder what it would be like having sex with a genome," Blank mused aloud. "I reckon it would be like doing it to a tree stump."

Garnet threw a leather wrist at him. "Y-you animal! Just pack, already."

iv.

Choco had been understandably confused by his master's behaviour. Zidane looked like Zidane and smelled like Zidane, but he hadn't shown Choco the slightest of interest. He even took a few uncertain steps backwards when the bird nuzzled him affectionately, then admitted that he didn't know how to ride a chocobo.

Knowing Choco to be a handful for first time riders, Garnet gave Zidane a more docile chocobo, which turned out to be a big mistake, because Choco threw a tantrum of epic proportion. Not only did he repeatedly nip the poor bird Zidane was riding, but he actually attempted to throw Garnet off his back. The queen scolded the bird and offered him another gyshal green to quell – or at least distract – him, and it seemed to work, though he kept one large, confused eye on Zidane the entire journey.

"S'gonna rain," came Blank's brooding prediction. "And some."

Garnet followed his gaze towards the horizon. They could see the Iifa Tree even at this distance; the most prominent land mark on the entire continent. Its twisted silhouette was made even more ominous by the purple thunderheads rearing around its balcony like the turrets of a castle. Wispy curtains of grey veiled the bulk of the tree, and judging by the way the wind was picking up, the storm would probably hit them within the hour.

"Yeah…" she agreed half-heartedly, suddenly feeling quite overwhelmed by everything. The ball of dread growing in Garnet's stomach was becoming hard to ignore. "There are worse things than rain, though."

Blank grunted ambiguously and changed the subject. "I'm guessing you haven't told Rusty about this little expedition?"

Garnet grimaced. "Ah… no. He'd want to come along and it would take days for him to get here. I don't think we have that much time to spare."

"Great. So it really is on my head if anything happens to the Queen of Alexandria." Blank cocked a thumb at Zidane, who rode silently a few strides behind the pair. "And I guess it'll be too much to hope for that Mr Personality will suddenly regain his fighting abilities."

Garnet shrugged and left it at that. Somewhere up ahead, there was a grumble of thunder, and for a delirious moment Garnet imagined it was the sound of Iifa uprooting itself, eager to close the distance between them. She shuddered, and tried to remember a time when life had been simple. It was surprisingly hard to do.


	30. Into The Light

**Phew. Another chapter complete. And it didn't take a year this time! Go me. Haha. Not many chapters left now, folks!  
Side note: Yep I made up the Luminance spell up. S'over it.  
Enjoy.**

* * *

**Chapter Thirty**  
Into The Light

i.

"_A-ahh!_ Ugh, don't _do_ that! I thought you were a freakin' zombie!"

Garnet lowered her hand and the newly conjured magic ball of light respectively, her face twisting into a disgruntled expression. "I don't look that bad, do I?"

Blank hesitated for the briefest of moments wherein the sensitivity of women was considered and brutishly discarded. "Yes. I was about to stab in your face. Repeatedly. With something pointy and preferably sharp. Word from the wise: food is a good thing."

"Would you feel like eating if you were me?"

"Um, no. Guess not. But it doesn't change the fact that you look like you're decomposing."

"Well, here are your choices: you either put up with my zombie-face, or we walk around in darkness. And just so you know, the latter probably isn't the wisest of choices because there's a rather large drop on either side of us."

Blank's eyebrows disappeared under the bandana tied across his forehead. "Oh, really? I hadn't noticed actually. Thank the gods for your astute observations, otherwise I might have continued to frolic carelessly across the slippery roots, fear of falling and certain death be damned."

Garnet felt fresh sweat prickle her forehead as the dark abyss was brought to her attention once more. She swallowed noisily and volunteered a lacklustre, "Ha ha."

Their arrival at the Tree of Life had been heralded by a storm of devastating proportion. Blank had made some joke about not standing under trees during a thunderstorm, but abruptly shut up when a fork of lightening the size of which belittled even Ramuh's creations struck the canopy and sliced off a branch that would have propelled them into the next life had it landed on top of them.

They waited the worst of it out a safe distance away from the trunk, beneath an outcropping of intersecting roots, and it was there, in the fading light, that Garnet got a good look at the tree for the first time in years.

Although it had become a shadow of its former self, it was still as huge and intimidating as ever. Its leaves had long since withered and died, laying bare a labyrinth of branches that had the texture of hardened, wrinkled skin; a bouquet of crippled arms reaching into the dark sky. Garnet remembered it as a haven of life and mysterious beauty, but it now looked ghastly, truly something from a nightmare, wreathed in thunderheads and scarred by lightening. Its roots seemed to be everywhere but the ground and were frozen in the strangest positions, testament to their violent death throes. It was strange to remember its past appearance; the Iifa was now so still and dead.

Yet Garnet still feared it. A darkness lived at its core, like maggots in a corpse. Was the key to new life on Gaia really here? Garnet struggled to believe it as the darkness swallowed the light of her Luminance spell and bathed everything else in ghoulish shades of grey.

"Can't you cast a happy colour?" Blank complained as he thumbed the hilt of his sword. "Don't you have a Happy Rainbow spell? Or a Smiley Sun spell?"

"Let's just get this over with," Garnet said as she squinted through the gloom and towards what she presumed was the right way.

It was unusually dark here. The sun had not yet set, but the clouds were so thick that they had cast the land into premature darkness that only thickened as they progressed deeper into Iifa's lair. Though the leaves were gone, the branches were woven so thick that everything beneath Iifa's canopy was snared within an eternal twilight.

Garnet cast a worried glance behind her as she began to walk again. After some discussion, they decided it was best to position the genome between herself and Blank. Garnet knew the way (roughly, for the landscape had changed considerably since her last visit) so had to be in front, and she didn't trust Zidane to take the rear; if he fell or lagged behind they probably wouldn't realise until it was too late. They needed to keep their eyes and ears trained for any possible signs of zombies (or dragons, though Garnet decided to keep that little gem to herself – Blank was still struggling with the idea of the undead infesting the tree) so couldn't expend energy babying him along.

There had been no change to Zidane's demeanour. He remained quiet and impassive as usual, his gaze roaming casually across Iifa's landscape as if death did not lie one misplaced footfall away.

Garnet returned her gaze to the path ahead. Years before, the roots and branches had extended from the trunk in one vague direction, but now the foliage made no sense. The way was frequently blocked by trunks of varying size, crisscrossing and twisting around each other with no semblance of order. They emerged from the darkness below like some giant squid emerging from the deep. It was disorientating and chaotic, but through gaps in the foliage Garnet could discern the enormous trunk, and as it drew closer her sense of unease increased.

"I keep seeing things." Blank's voice was barely above a whisper, alerting Garnet to the stillness of the place, to the silence, despite the fact she could sense flickers of life lurking somewhere within the steady gloom.

"Where?"

"I dunno, everywhere." Blank sounded unnerved, but Garnet could hardly blame him. She'd been keeping her eyes ahead, keen not to lose the distorted trail scrounged from her memory, but she too had been subject to the strange flickers of movement in the periphery of her vision.

"It might be a monster, so keep a look out."

"I know what a monster looks like," Blank snapped. "I know what Ghosts look like too, and Zombies. I don't think it's either of those. It's too ethereal and strange. It looks… familiar."

Garnet's stomach knotted with trepidation. "What do you mean?"

"I dunno." He huffed. "Man, this place is gettin' to me. Let's pick up the pace, eh? Faster we get in, faster we get out."

Garnet couldn't have agreed more.

ii.

At some indistinct point, they breached the trunk, and by then the day was almost dead. Darkness devoured her puny light source, sparing a meagre square that lit the roots directly in front of her feet. Once inside the bulk of the trunk, the roots thickened and flattened inexplicably, and then she was in the place where she had stood all those years ago, with Zidane, Vivi and Eiko.

Garnet funnelled energy into her ball of light and it flared brighter, throwing off a layer of darkness. She stared down at the strange transportation device just beyond her feet, which had been spared the wrath of the roots' final display of aggression. She frowned, casting her gaze around. The place was hemmed in with the roots, and large chunks of the trunk had been knocked loose. It seemed strange that the transportation pad remained untouched. Was this an act of sentiency? Or was it magically protected?

"'Sup." Blank stood beside her, arms crossed, as he stared curiously at the pad. "Is this how we get down?"

Garnet's gaze trailed back to the pad and she nodded. "Yes. I was a little worried that there would be debris obstructing the downward path but I have a feeling it'll be fine. It'll take us straight to the bottom."

"How does it work?"

Garnet turned to Zidane. "Genome, please stand in the middle of that circular pad."

The genome in question stared blankly at her for a moment, then obliged. He took his place at the centre of the pad, then returned to staring at Garnet.

Nothing happened.

"Abracadabra," Blank said.

Something clicked in Garnet's head and she rolled her eyes. "Oh, wonderful. The device must have reacted to Zidane's Terran soul last time we came here. Now that he's become an empty vessel he's about as useful as you and I."

"Don't tell me…"

"We're taking the long way down," Garnet confirmed. She glanced around uneasily. "I hate to say it, but I think we should set up camp. There's no way we can navigate so many hundreds of feet down in the pitch black."

There was a moment of uneasy silence as the pair absorbed the quiet darkness and the roots twisting around and above their heads like a nest of snoozing serpents. Somewhere far away, there was the howl of something not human.

"Worst camping trip ever," Blank said, then rolled his shoulders and cracked his knuckles. "S'pose I'll take first watch. Do you reckon Airhead over there remembers how to pitch a tent?"

Garnet sighed. "Don't get your hopes up."

Blank smirked. "I never do when it comes to Zidane."

iii.

Unsurprisingly, sleep evaded Garnet. She slipped in and out of a light doze, never far from the surface of consciousness, and when she managed fall asleep proper she would be inexplicably jolted awake, rest a tantalising finger breadth away. She could credit this to simple stress, but a niggling somewhere between her two minds suggested it was something else, and she was inclined to agree.

Memories would come to her without stimulation, random and vivid and varying in age and subject. She credited it to Memoria. Though the portal itself no longer existed, she imagined fragments of its influence might remain among the dead branches of Iifa. Or perhaps she was just overthinking.

Mostly, she was unnerved by Zidane. He had been reluctant to share a tent with her but had submitted on command. He lay incredibly still, but he was not asleep. Garnet could sense his wakefulness and it made her uncomfortable. What did genomes think about in those moments before sleep claimed them? Surely they must think of something; a mind cannot simply be blank… Can it?

Garnet couldn't imagine quiet within her mind, nor did she wish too. It was akin to being dead – a pointless, meaningless existence filled with nothing. Unnatural.

Groaning, Garnet sat up. She lingered for a moment in her knot of blankets, rubbing her eyes with the balls of her hands, then felt Zidane's blank gaze on her back. She shuddered, then unbuckled the tent flap and crawled out.

There had been no small about of debate on whether to light a fire, but when their light was extinguished and everything became a slate of depthless black, they both immediately and steadfastly agreed that a fire was a necessity. Blank attested that he'd rather see what was going to eat him before it did so, and Garnet found the Iifa Tree unnerving enough in daylight, let alone swathed in solid shadow.

Blank was hunkered over this fire with his back to the tent, his head drooping against his chest so she initially mistook him for being asleep, but when she drew closer he glanced over his shoulder. His eyes were rimmed with dark smudges and glazed beneath heavy lids. She felt very sorry for him then. Baku never did really cut him a break.

"You can take some rest," Garnet said as she took her place by the fire.

"It's only been a few hours."

Garnet bobbed a shoulder. "It's okay. I can't sleep." She caught his look and pulled a face. "Honestly, it's fine. Don't worry about me. I'm used to not sleeping nowadays. I'll wake you up in a few hours, I promise."

"I look forward to it." Blank got to his feet and stretched his arms, shoulders cracking disapprovingly, then all but dragged his feet towards the tent. "I'd warn you about the zombies but they'll probably mistake you as one of their own, so give me a shout when they drag you away to make you their queen."

Garnet threw a pebble at his retreating form, retracting her earlier sentiments of pity.

Once the tent flap was closed and the general rustling of Blank settling had hushed, she was left with the void of darkness and the ambiguous calls of monsters and insects. Worse, she was left with her memories.

_Vivi… What did you find here?_

Unbidden, a memory formed behind her eyes. She was walking down a cobblestone road lined with narrow, rambling houses – familiar – Alexandria? Yes. Some back street she didn't recognise. Her eyes trailed down from the blue sky threaded between terracotta tiles and to the two thieves leaning casually against a brick wall –

Wait.

Garnet shook her head and blinked, spine straight and stiff, hands curled in her lap.

_That… This isn't my memory!_

She stared up at the sky, forgetting for a moment where she was and expecting to see stars, but there was nothing but a tangle of roots trimmed in amber firelight.

_Whose…?_

Another memory played out within her mind. She was flying, peering disinterestedly down at a patchwork landscape turned monochrome beneath twin moons. She caught a glimpse of silver feathers beneath her feet, of a powerful wing thrusting down and catching an updraft, propelling them higher until she could spot the peaks of Lindblum on the horizon –

Garnet leapt to her feet, heart pounding. The sound of her feet crunching against the husks of dead leaves was far too loud. When had everything become so still? When had the fire burned so low?

A warning trilled from the place between her conscious and subconscious mind. She gripped Whales Whisker in an offensive position and stirred her magic to life. Was it her imagination, or was the darkness… _moving_?

_What monster is this?_

It was undeniable now; the darkness was indeed shifting. It warped and pulsated just beyond the fire's reach, tangible yet shapeless at once. Garnet strived to discern something solid out of the writhing mass, but failed. It was getting closer. Blank's name was on the tip of her tongue until the thing rolled into the fire light and she was struck speechless.

Mist. Clouds so thick it looked like it could be plucked straight from the air, rolling across their campfire. Garnet stared numbly as it rolled past her calves and obscured the bottom of the tent. She shivered, though not from the night's chill. Icy fingers walked up her spine as she stared into the gloom. Where was it coming from? It certainly wasn't in the quantity it had been all those years ago but nonetheless…

She was about to turn toward the tent and awaken Blank when a shimmer of light caught her eye. For the briefest of moments a red light danced between the tangle of roots like the eye of a dragon watching her from a cave. It blinked out, then reappeared farther away, twinkling in one spot, then looping down almost playfully.

Faerie lights?

Garnet felt she should have been wary, but something quelled her unease. She found herself wandering after it, her thoughts full of Vivi and the orb that had rolled beneath the bed. She walked to where the platform ended and gave way to a drop of indeterminable proportions.

She lit a Luminance spell and dropped it. The light fell like a tear drop, slowly dying as it plunged further away from its mage, but before it was snuffed out it revealed a series of roots that entwined to form many layers. There were dead vines too – maybe she could use them as a ladder?

"Dagger."

Garnet barely managed to keep her balance as the voice rocked her forward. She whirled, flared another Luminance spell, and came face to face with Zidane.

"Zidane? Zid, is that you?"

The genome stared at her. "It is unsafe to traverse so close to the edge."

"What did you call me? What did you say?"

"It is unsafe to traverse so close to the edge."

"You called me Dagger."

The genome's eyes were glassy orbs in the glare of her spell, reminding her of a the eyes of dead fish. "Yes."

Garnet opened her mouth to speak, but found her thoughts were too muddled to make sense of anything, much less the placid genome. She sighed gustily, wondered if she was going mad, then turned back to the edge just in time to glimpse the red sparkly light, some distance below.

"I'm going down," she told the genome. "Wait here."

"I will accompany you."

Garnet glanced over her shoulder. "It's too dangerous to climb down at night. I said wait here."

"No."

Garnet blinked in surprise. In all her time staying in the village, she had never heard a genome refuse anything. What did this mean? Another sign? Should she let him follow? But what if he fell and died?

_It's just an empty shell_, Mikoto would say. _There are others identical to it. It's replaceable. I can build a new one._

But it looked like Zidane, even if it wasn't Zidane. Another genome wasn't really the same as this one. Zidane's shell was unique…

Regardless, her instincts were prickling, and she sighed again in defeat. "Fine. But stay close to the light and don't make any stupid jumps. Quickly now, before we lose the red light."

The genome didn't respond or question Garnet's faerie light. He waited for her to mount the tangle of dead vines and then followed suit.

iv.

Garnet discovered it was rather difficult navigating down crumbling, unstable vines with just one hand, so she snuffed out her Luminance spell, dousing the couple in darkness. Although the nearest root was not too far, without the comfort of light it may well have been an endless abyss beneath her feet. The relief she felt when her feet touched solid root was enough to make her question her decision to pursue the red light alone.

Well, not _completely_ alone.

With an agility that defied his near-comatose state of mind, Zidane landed beside her with a quiet thunk. He stared at her, awaiting her next move.

"I thought I told you not to jump," she said crossly.

"I won't be damaged," he told her.

"You're as stubborn as…" She trailed off. "Well, hurry up, then. It's a long way down."

Garnet continued descending. It was a laborious process; the vines were half rotted and prone to give way mid-climb, sending the queen skidding down on her stomach for a terrifying few heartbeats as she madly grappled for a foothold. Yet the vines were a blessing. Their absence was sorely felt when she was faced with a jump that threatened her with a sprained ankle. Often she would have to awkwardly slide down, the root's rough exterior ripping and staining her clothes.

Needless to say, she was soon out of breath, cut, bruised and sweaty, cursing the languid life of a queen. Zidane was as unbothered as ever and usually at the next level before her, staring idly at her struggling form and not bothering to offer a hand.

Some time into their descent, Garnet had to stop to catch her breath, leaning forward with her hands on her knees, feeling sweat trickle down the bridge of her nose. It dripped onto the ground, leaving a tiny dark stain.

_Wait… I can see it?_

She stood straight and peered around. She could vaguely discern the roots and trunk warped around her. Was it morning already?

Garnet walked to the edge of the root and peered over the side. Finally, the bottom could be seen, twinkling between gaps in the fauna like a shattered emerald. The strange light pulsated and shimmered and Garnet felt that strange tendril of dread unfurl in her chest.

The red light appeared again, some way down, dancing and whirling between the branches.

"What is this place?"

Garnet looked at Zidane. He was staring over the edge too. The green light toyed with the aquamarine in his eyes, turning them into a fairy cauldrons of gemstone glitter. His expression was vacant, as always.

"It's where we go when we die," Garnet answered. "And what we are born from."

Zidane looked thoughtful for a moment, then evenly replied, "I did not come from here, and I will not return to here when I expire. I am a vessel. I will return to nothing."

Garnet felt an inexplicable rage towards Garland then. How could he create intelligent life but give them no purpose? They lived a meaningless existence, lingering on the outskirts of emotion, unable to die but unable to live. For the first time, she felt sorry for the genomes. Was this how Mikoto felt? Was this why she strived to create a new genome, one that could feel, live and die?

There must be a way.

"Come on, we're almost there."

v.

Garnet put her head in her hands and tried very hard not to cry. Crying was useless. Crying didn't run a kingdom, or save the world, or get her husband back. It wasn't productive in the slightest. Yet it was such a hard thing to fight.

_There must be something. Anything._

She had expected an answer. Expected it to be waiting for her at the bottom. But there had been nothing and now she had no idea what to do.

_The answer must be here. It must be. Vivi… Zidane… Please! Help me. I can't do this by myself…_

Garnet lifted her head from her hands and stared at the platform's edge. It was completely unchanged since the time they had defeated Soulcage. Beyond the platform and several hundred feet down was a pool of blinding light that radiated sentiency and life. Potent magic of the likes which she could not fathom hummed in the distant, plucking chords in the very air so she could feel their vibrations against her skin. The eidolons stirred in her mind, excited by being the near the source of all life and power.

Garnet could not share in their excitement. She re-read Vivi's journal over and over. What had he done at the Iifa Tree that prompted the mages to have souls? Nothing seemed changed in the environment, even in the magical aura of the place. Yet he had found something, she was sure of it. If she was going to get Zidane back, surely it would be here? Was her journey all for nothing? Would she merely have to accept her husband as an empty drone?

Garnet looked sideways, head still cradled in her hands. Zidane was staring at the platform too, though his brow was creased with what might have been concern. She sat up.

"What's wrong? Are you… remembering something?"

"No. But… I sense danger nearby. I believe we should evacuate this area."

"You sense danger?"

"…Something is coming."

Zidane had barely finished his sentence when the ground began to shake. It came from somewhere deep beneath them, gurgling upwards like the earthly bellow of a Hilgigar. Garnet climbed to her feet with difficulty then gripped a root for support. A vision of flailing roots smashing the bracken earth flashed before her eyes and fear gripped her in tight claws. Was Iifa coming to life again?

In a moment of disorientating de ja vu, the source of the rumbling revealed itself and Garnet staggered backwards with a cry of dismay.

A tree emerged from the other side of the platform, springing from the green inferno like a grassy Ifrit. It was belittled by Iifa, but still the size of a normal tree and therefore much larger than Zidane and Garnet combined. Unlike Iifa, it retained its leaves, and they rustled amongst branches that shifted back and forth between a peculiar cage of stone and brick. Between this foliage was a face of nightmares, shorn through the middle by barky teeth. Its eyes were dark slits beneath a heavy brow of wood, lit at its centre by a red gem.

The platform shuddered as it planted itself before the two onlookers and its roar echoed up Iifa's hollow trunk.

"Trespassers," Soulcage stated, "must be eliminated."

Garnet barely moved in time to dodge the rain of razor sharp leaves Soulcage shot from its branches. They became lodged in the platform, one hundred green knives, as she scooted backwards out of harm's way.

"Zidane, move!" she yelled, and the genome mimicked her evasive manoeuvre, looking puzzled though hardly frightened.

_How is this happening? We defeated Soulcage to stop the Mist! Why is it back? How is this possible?_

Another hail of razor leaves shot her way and this time she wasn't so lucky. Although she avoided the worst of it, the foliage cut through her clothes and into the flesh of her left arm and leg. She yelped, pain cutting a tunnel through her limbs, then groped for a Cure and a Protect. With some effort, she threw them Zidane's way too, while he stood to one side, wary but unaggressive.

Garnet braced herself against the platform and gripped Whale's Whisker, reaching for the place inside her mind where the magic brewed.

The tree loomed before her, rustling its branches and gnashing its splinters of teeth. Bright fragments of light erupted upwards from its writhing roots, whirled around its trunk and danced between its leaves. The air was scorched by its magical aura as Soulcage amassed its energy into an attack.

Garnet opened her eyes, smirking slightly. _Too slow, you overgrown weed._

She felt the power rise up inside her, light and powerful, and spoke the name of the spell that all Undead foes feared most: Life.

_It's over._

The magic was snatched from her control and the spell fizzed out with an anticlimactic pop that smelt like cut grass.

Stunned, Garnet almost dropped her weapon.

_What on Gaia was that?_

She reached for the magic again but it was as though her ability had been dispelled, or rather, she had been shunned of it. Garnet barely had time to process this before she was knocked off her feet by an intense shockwave. The Protect exploded inwards and the breath ripped out her lungs and her knees buckled. Whale's Whisker skittered out of her grip and rolled over the edge of the platform, disappearing into the luminous green pit below. She yelled in dismay, though was torn from the loss by Zidane's own yell. Some of Soulcage's leaves had ripped through his Protect and pierced his torso.

She called to her magic, frantically scouring every corner of her mind, but it was hidden from her. Even the eidolons were slumbering, immune to her call.

Garnet climbed unsteadily to her feet again and turned her attention to Soulcage. To her surprise, the red light had reappeared and was dancing playfully by its side.

_It… it tricked me? It led me down here to… die? Why? I don't understand what's happening!_

Garnet sensed that Zidane's Protect had worn off in the same moment Soulcage turned its hollowed eyes on him. She cried out, conjuring the magic as fast as she could, but Soulcage was faster. Its aura swirled blue and red and the air stank of burning leaves, hailing its fiery spell.

The shell would not come in time and Garnet slammed her eyes shut. _Zidane!_

"Aaarrg_gghh_!"

Garnet opened her eyes in time to see Blank leap from an overhanging root and onto the writhing tree, cutting off its fiery spell and tearing downwards with his sword so he left an ugly scar along its trunk. Purple sap spewed onto the ground and the tree arched backwards, roaring.

Once grounded, Blank whirled on Zidane. "You big, stupid idiot! I'm gonna punch you in the face!"

"Blank!" Garnet cried. "I…. It's….!"

"And if I wasn't a total fucking gentleman and you weren't a woman," he yelled, turning to Garnet, "I'd punch you in the face too!"

"Blank, the enemy is undead! Do you still have that elixr?"

"Course I do!"

"Use it on him!"

Blank shot her a puzzled look but fished around in his bag. The tree bellowed when it spotted the glass vial and conjured another Fira spell, leaves chattering like broken glass tinkering onto the ground, but Blank was faster. He pulled the cork with his teeth and lobbed the elixr.

Garnet's elation was extinguished as quickly as it was ignited when the red light launched itself through the air, hitting the vial and causing it to explode into a thousand useless pieces. Crimson liquid splattered onto the ground and shards of glass whistled past Garnet's face. She grit her teeth, furious.

_What is going on?_

"Anymore bright ideas?" Blank hollered while deftly avoiding a leafy bombardment.

"None! Other than having you beat the living daylights out of it! You… Wa-wait. Where's Zidane?"

Garnet spun around, eyes scanning the plateau. He had been close to Blank just a moment before but now…

"There!"

Garnet followed Blank's extended finger and spotted Zidane behind Soulcage, dangerously close to the edge, with his back to the fray. The red light was gliding around him like a lazy butterfly.

"What the hell is he doing?" Blank yelled.

Garnet climbed to her feet. "Blank, do me a favour and keep the tree busy! I'm going to get Zidane!"

The redhead nodded and brandished his sword, then ran at Soulcage with a fierce battle cry tearing from his throat.

With Soulcage distracted, Garnet managed to flank it. There was little time to be wasted. Soulcage would notice her at any moment and Blank could not hold it off alone. They would have to flee and return with reinforcements. But right now, she had to get Zidane away from that red light, even if she had to drag him.

She ran up to Zidane, her arm outstretched to pull him away from the infinite drop into green nothing, but was halted in her steps.

The red light was expanding, pulsating in time with the light beneath them. It rippled like a reel of red silk and began to take on the form of a man. It creased and smoothed alternatively, giving the impression of shadows, then clothes and then features, and through the red veil glimmers of colour began to emerge. And as the red light grew in definition, Garnet began to recognise who it was.

The man turned to her and smiled.

"K-Kuja…?" Garnet breathed.

He was as she remembered, clad in the same clothes, long silver hair, cruel yet beautiful face, though his image was ethereal and painted watery red. She viewed him as if through a bride's veil and she sensed that if she was to reach out and touch him her hand would pass straight through his image.

Horror was replaced by anger, and she stepped forwards resolutely. "Get away from him! If you dare touch him I'll… I'll…" Kill you? Too late for that. She floundered, and Kuja tittered soundlessly behind his slender hand. Strange, she had seen that gesture countless times, yet his expression was different now.

"What –"

Soulcage roared and turned. Too late she registered Blank's shouted warning. The tree loomed above her, teeth gnashing, as it conjured another spell that would likely knock her off her feet and into the pit.

She turned quickly to Zidane, hand outstretched to grab him, and Kuja mirrored her. But he did not pull Zidane to safety.

He pushed him.

Garnet screamed and lunged forward, falling through Kuja's image and grabbing the back of Zidane's shirt, but the momentum was too powerful and Zidane was not fighting it.

They fell together into a blinding pit of light.


End file.
